Questions, Chreiai, and challenges to honor: The interface of rhetoric and culture in Mark’s Gospel
Neyrey, Jerome H
(Bell & Howell: Information & Learning: Foreign Text omitted)
MARK, IN HIS GOSPEL, constantly presents people asking Jesus questions, which he answers with a counterquestion. In treatment of this “questioning” material in the Gospel of Mark, Vernon Robbins has compared the teacherstudent relationship in Hellenistic literature to the way Jesus deals with his disciples, which on balance illustrates an edifying and productive educational exercise.’ Yet many chreiai in Mark record enemies, not students, asking Jesus questions in episodes which are hardly irenic and are never exchanges of information. On most public occasions Jesus is engaged in a controversy,2 or in an exchange consisting of challenge and riposte.3 These Marcan chreiai embody the aggressive nature of the controversy or challenge in the rhetorical form of a question, which functions as a weapon wielded against Jesus to test him and, if possible, to defeat him. Questions, then, serve as weapons with lethal intent, for the person asking them does not seek information from Jesus but attempts to embarrass him. Jesus, moreover, generally defends himself by answering a question with a question, thus making his own aggressive thrust at his opponent.
A full investigation of the phenomenon of questions in Mark entails three related items. First, we need data on “questions” in antiquity: Who asked questions of whom? Why, and in what context? Second, we examine the chreia for two reasons: (1) many chreiai begin with a question asked of a sage, and (2) the chreia is undoubtedly the dominant form in which Mark reports the controversies of Jesus. Chreiai often served to celebrate the wisdom or cleverness of a sage and thus to honor him for this prowess.4 Third, this rhetorical material embodies the pivotal cultural values of antiquity, namely, honor and shame. We argue, then, that the chreia describes the typical exchange of challenge and riposte which was a common form of social intercourse among ancient Mediterraneans. Hence, an appreciation of Jesus’ controversies requires analysis of all three aspects for a truly thorough study of Mark’s presentation of Jesus as an honorable person. Jesus is at least as good as the best of the ancient sages! He is certainly typical of sages in the Mediterranean world! He warrants our highest praise and honor.
I. Questions in Ancient Literature
Questions are more than statements in an interrogatory form, for they provide points for dispute, quarrel, discussion, and the like.5 While a question may be a sentence in an interrogative form, it frequently functions as a topic for debate, a controversial point, a difficulty, a quarrel, and a puzzle. It is only occasionally a disinterested request for information.6 To appreciate how the ancients understood questions we should examine the social forums in which questions might be asked, such as forensic rhetoric, philosophy, education, and entertainment.
A. Questions in Forensic Rhetoric
Quintilian Inst. Orat. 9.2.6 describes the various ways in which both questions and answers can be stated to achieve special rhetorical effect. Concerning questions he writes: “What is more common than to ask and enquire? For both terms are used indifferently, although the one seems to imply a desire for knowledge, and the other a desire to prove something.” This native informant distinguishes seemingly neutral questions seeking information from aggressive ones, that is, those in which the person asking “desires to prove something” in either attack or defense of something. He then itemizes different types of questions and their rhetorical aims (9.2.6-11). There are “simple questions” such as, “Who are you, and from whence do you come?” Yet questions are asked “not to get information but to emphasize our point.” From Cicero he draws the following example: “What was that sword of yours doing, Tubero, that was drawn on the field of Pharsalus?” (Cicero, Pro Lig. 3.9). Some questions put an audience on the spot: “We may also ask what cannot be denied, as `Was Gaius Fidiculanius Falcula, I ask you, brought to justice?”‘; some are calculated to stump an opponent: “We may put a question to which it is difficult to reply, as in the common forms, `How was it possible?”How can that be?”‘ Our purpose might simply be “to throw odium on the person to whom it is addressed,” or “to embarrass our opponent and to deprive him of the power of feigning ignorance of our meaning,” or to provoke “indignation, as in the line: `Are any left that still adore Juno’s divinity?”‘ Finally, questions may shame people into action: “At times they may express a sharp command, as in: `Will they not rush to arms and follow forth from all the city?”‘ Therefore, Quintilian illustrates the rhetorical use of questions as aggressive or combative tools which support an attack, prevent the person questioned from denying accusations, cause difficulty in replying, throw odium, or embarrass and shame someone. Questions, then, often function as weapons.
Answers, like questions, are more than neutral exchanges of information and are likewise crafted for special rhetorical effect (Quintilian Inst. Orat. 9.2.12-16). “One question is asked,” either because it makes a better defense or increases the power of an attack, and “another is answered.” For example, “a witness for the prosecution was asked whether he had been cudgeled by the plaintiff and replied, `And what is more, I had done him no harm.”‘ Or the purpose may be “to elude a charge, a very common form of a reply. The advocate says, ‘I ask if you killed the man?’ The accused replies, `He was a robber.”‘ Another kind of answer is “the dissimulatory reply, which is employed solely with the purpose of raising a laugh.” Answers, like questions, do not convey information neutrally but continue the game of attack and defense. Thus, questions and answers should be examined in terms of their rhetorical function, which only occasionally has to do with a simple transfer of information.
B. Questions in Philosophical Discourse
Socrates asks two types of questions, distinguishable not in terms of their rhetorical form but only by context.s Playing the role of midwife, Socrates asks questions to give birth to the truth already existing in his partner in dialogue; these are not aggressive, challenging questions. Yet Socrates questions Sophists to expose their fallacies and shame them; these questions are highly aggressive, as one notes in the following remark: “If you really wish, Socrates, to know what the just is, neither merely ask questions nor criticize for the sake of gaining honor (…) since your acumen has perceived that it is easier to ask questions than to answer thembut do you yourself answer and tell what you say the just is” (Plato Rep. 1.336C). Philosophers, then, can ask questions to score points by ridiculing the answers given.
Similarly, Apollonius asks a series of questions to bring his pupil Damis to the realization that he has little or false understanding.9 As he explains to his disciple, “my question which I asked you to begin with was a fair one, although you thought that I asked it in order to make fun of you” (Apollonius Rhodius Argon. 2.5). Whether or not such was the intent, it was experienced by the one questioned as ridicule.’o In many extant writings of philosophers and serious thinkers in antiquity, the topic for discussion appears in the form of a question. II This may simply be the title of the discourse, or it may be the opening lines of the treatise which begins with a formal interrogative put to the sage. Inasmuch as these topics are hotly debated, philosophical questions have a combative or aggressive quality. Moreover, they seem to function rhetorically as the occasion to honor the sage’s wise words and thus burnish his reputation.
The diatribe seems to be a refined form of philosophical education.2 Stowers’s treatment of this yielded one useful conclusion which pertains to the dialogical shape of the diatribe. The speaker initially engages his audience by means of questions, such as …; or non vides enim? Subsequently, an interlocutor raises objections and false conclusions to the material proposed, which are expressed as questions introduced by …; or quid ergo? These questions are rarely neutral requests for information, as Stowers makes very clear: “The diatribe is not the technical instruction in logic, physics, etc., but discourse . . . where the teacher employed the ‘Socratic’ method of censure and protreptic. The goal of this part of the instruction was not simply to impart knowledge, but to transform the students, to point out error and to cure it.” II Thus, the tone of questions in a diatribe is combative, even downright hostile; pointing out another’s contradictions will most likely be taken as an offense.
C. The Literary Genre “Questions and Answers”
Sze-kar Wan recently outlined the history in antiquity of the genre “question and answer” (…).^ He credits Aristotle with the first “zetematic work,” which has survived as fragments in Porphyry’s ‘… Cylaia; most of those fragments contain a question introduced by …. He notes the remark of Porphyry that “in the Alexandrian Museum it was the custom for questions to be posed and developed solutions written down.’5 There is considerable debate, however, about the source and meaning of the “questions”: were they objections or criticisms raised about a document or aspects of a text? In many instances, they seem to be challenges frequently raised about an author, document, or topic which issued in apologetic responses.
D. Questions in Education
“Education” is a catchall term for situations in which the formal purpose of question and answer is the direct transfer of information. Iamblichus Life of Pythagoras 82 contains a sample of questioning and answering which communicates the chief ideas of the sage on three topics, namely (1) what a thing is, (2) what is the best in a category, and (3) what should be done or avoided: “Those, then, on what a thing is are as follows: for example, what are the islands of the blessed? Sun and moon . . . Those on what is best are, for example: what is the most just thing? To sacrifice . . What is the wisest of things among us? Medicine. What is the loveliest? Harmony.”6 While this appears to be a simple exchange of information, we remember that it is sectarian information, and that the writer surely has in mind other philosophies which he criticizes. There are right and wrong answers; thus, there are winners and losers. The questions, then, imply a contest, a game, or a combat. E. Questions and Entertainment
Participants at symposia raised for discussion questions which served as the evening’s entertainment (i.e., those in Plutarch’s Table Talk and Athenaeus’ Deipnosophistai). But even entertainment may entail playing a competitive game of sparring with the weapon of one’s wits.’7 Suetonius (Tib. 70.3) records how the emperor Tiberius delighted in trying to stump his banquet guests with hard questions about mythology: “He used to test even the grammarians . . . by questions like this: `Who was Hecuba’s mother?’ `What was the name of Achilles among the maidens?”‘ Tiberius asked these questions as part of a game, “to test even the grammarians,” which reminds us that while such questions were “entertaining,” they were also very competitive. Finally, Plutarch (Lives: Alex. 64.1-11) describes a most deadly contest of questions and answers between Alexander and the Gymnosophists. Because they were “reputed to be clever and concise in answering questions,” Alexander put difficult questions to them, with the proviso that “he would put to death him who first made an incorrect answer”; a pleasant evening was had by all!18
In Moralia: Table Talk 2.1.629E-631C Plutarch relates a conversation on the very topic of “questions.” Because this discussion contains theorizing about the social propriety of asking questions, we examine it more closely. Plutarch concludes that “those who wish to give happiness rather than distress put questions of such sort that the answers are attended not by blame from the audience but by praise, not by hatred and anger but friendliness and good will” (631 B-C). Obviously, questions can be very aggressive and agonistic. The conclusion explains the observation about a certain Gobryas who admired the Persians precisely because “they asked each other such questions as it is more agreeable to be asked than not and joked each other on matters about which it was more agreeable to be teased than not” (629E). Thus, an important distinction is made: questions can be both agreeable or disagreeable and friendly or hostile.
Plutarch elaborates on agreeable questions,9 but a mirror reading of what makes a question agreeable provides clues to disagreeable questions as well. If agreeable questions are those asked on topics about which the answerer enjoys expertise or unique knowledge and which touch on his successes, conversely, disagreeable questions would be those about which the answerer has little or no knowledge and which expose his misfortunes or failures. Thus, it is agreeable for an “expert” to be asked about esoteric matters such as “astronomy or dialectics.” Plutarch, quoting Euripides, concludes that “people are pleased with those who ask them questions on subjects which, because they themselves have knowledge of them, they are unwilling to let go unknown and lie hidden” (630B).20
II. Questions and the Chreia
The chreia, one of the ten fundamental genres taught budding writers and orators in the second level of education,2 is defined as “a concise reminiscence aptly attributed to some character.”22 We have myriads of examples of chreia.ls We also have formal rhetorical theory about chreia in the rhetorical handbooks known as the progymnasmata.24 Aelius Theon classified the chreiai as sayings chreiai (…), action chreiai (…), and mixed chreiai (…) combining saying and action.25 He distinguished two kinds of sayings chreia, one recording a simple statement of the sage (…, “So-and-so said . . .”), and the other noting his response to a question or provocation (…, “When asked about X, so-and-so responded . . .”). The responsive chreia, moreover, could be either a question requiring a simple yes or no answer (…), a question demanding a longer answer (…), or a question seeking some explanation (…).26 In this study we focus on the responsive chreia, with attention to the question asked which prompts the sage to answer, often answering a question with a question.”
Are the questions put to the sage neutral or hostile? Is the answer testy and defensive? Hock and O’Neil, in their summary remarks on the topic, point out an antagonistic context for many chreiai, which “depict philosophers in typical situations, such as chiding students, attacking vices, responding to critics, debating with one another”; “typical situations,” they indicate, consist of conflict and push and shove: “chiding,” “attacking,” “responding to critics,” “debating” and the like.28 The tone differs from type to type.29 The chreiai collected by Hock and O’Neil amply illustrate the aggressive manner in which the sage is provoked to speak; for example: “Anacharsis, when reproached (…) by someone because he was a Scythian, said, ‘I am by birth, but not in manner of living”‘ (Gnom. Vat. 15),3o and “Diogenes, when someone rebuked (…) him for his poverty, said: `You poor devil, I have seen no one playing the tyrant on account of his poverty, but all do on account of their wealth”‘ (Stobaeus Flor. 4.33.26).31 Our previous survey of the various forums in which questions were asked suggests that we should presume an agonistic context.32 Questions, even among philosophers, were likely attempts to prove something or score points rather than neutral requests for information.33
III. Questions and Challenges to Honor
Remembering that questions frequently have a polemical or combative quality, we turn now from rhetoric to culture in order to study how questions function as challenges to honor. Honor is the abstract, general term which both natives and anthropologists use for a person’s worth, value, respect, reputation, and fame.3 Honor refers to two social actions: one’s claim to pride, and the acknowledgment of that claim.35 The claim, of course, may be rejected outright or challenged. Regarding the sources of honor, it may be ascribed to one person by another, or someone may achieve it on his or her own merits. Ascribed honor refers to inherited or bestowed worth-birth into a respectable family, commission as procurator, or study under a renowned teacher. Achieved honor is earned the old-fashioned way, by effort and merit resulting in prowess in military, athletic, or artistic fields, by benefactions, and by the common practice of challenging another and taking his worth and value as one’s own. Yet honor has to do with a social dynamic wherein people compete for prestige and respect, and it is this to which we must attend.36
A. The Agonistic Nature of Society in Antiquity
Students of Greco-Roman literature increasingly recognize the agonistic nature of social life in antiquity.37 Take, for example, Plato’s description of the world in an intense and constant state of warfare, city against city, village against village, and man against man (Clinias speaking): “He meant, I believe, to reprove the folly of mankind, who refuse to understand that they are all engaged in a continuous lifelong warfare against all cities whatsoever. . . Humanity is in a condition of public war of every man against every man, and private war of each man with himself” (Plato Laws 1.625E-626E).38
In such an agonistic and competitive environment, the pursuit of honor, that is, of …, takes on special importance. The word … can be taken positively as “love (and pursuit) of honor,”39 or negatively as “ambition,” as Augustine takes it in The City of God? Xenophon (Hiero. 7.3) represents the positive, if elitist, view: “The pursuit of honor (…) is not a natural component of the irrational animals nor of all human beings; those who have a natural desire for praise and honor are at the greatest distance from cattle-they are considered to be men, no longer mere human beings.” But with most people passionately pursuing honor, virtue becomes vice and a source of endless enmity, with winners and losers.
B. The Rationale for Conflict: Perceptions of Limited Good
Why win or lose? Why cannot both sides win? In his analysis of peasant societies George Foster describes how peasants perceive all things in the cosmos, including honor, as limited in amount and thus scarce:
By “Image of Limited Good” I mean that broad areas of peasant behavior are patterned in such fashion as to suggest that peasants view their social, economic, and natural universes-their total environment-as one in which all of the desired things in life such as land, wealth, health, friendship and love, manliness and honor, respect and status, power and influence, security and safety, exist in finite quantity and are always in short supply, as far as the peasant is concerned…. In addition there is no way directly within peasant power to increase the available quantities.41
If something valuable exists in limited amounts, he continues, “It follows that an individual or family can improve a position only at the expense of others. “42 Hence, if someone acquires honor by prowess or cleverness, others will perceive themselves as losing. Thus, love of honor (…) is a risky business. Many will interpret claims to honor as encroachments on their own worth and will either refuse to acknowledge them or will challenge them. If the claims pertain to matters of wisdom, the challenger may express this by asking hard questions! The perception of limited good, Foster has shown, leads directly to the aggressive phenomenon of envy.43
How ancient is this perception of limited good? In addition to the Baptist’s surprising remark that it is acceptable for Jesus to increase at John’s own expense (3:30), we find the concept expressed widely.44 For example, “People do not find it pleasant to give honor (…) to someone else, for they suppose that they themselves are being deprived of something.”45 Plutarch describes a person hearing an outstanding speaker and expressing envy at his success: “As though commendation were money, he feels that he is robbing himself of every bit that he bestows on another” (Plutarch On Listening to Lectures 44B; see his Old Men in Public Affairs 787D). Philo (Ebr. 110) explains the error of polytheism in terms of limited good: the more honor and regard are given to deified mortals, the less there is for the true Deity (see also Josephus, A.J 4.2.4 32). Hence, Greco-Roman literature provides ample evidence of social relations viewed as an agonistic and competitive world in which success in gaining honor, a paramount value, generally came at the expense of others. Thus, envy flourished, and few claims were likely to go unchallenged.
C. Challenge and Riposte: Choreographing Claims to Honor
Bruce Malina has studied the extensive field reports on the endless game of challenge and riposte in twentieth-century Mediterranean cultures. He suitably customizes the anthropological generalizations with sensitivity for interpretation of documents from the ancient world and describes the typical steps in the choreography of challenges to honor: (1) claim to honor, (2) challenge to that claim, (3) riposte to the challenge, and (4) public verdict by onlookers. Shortly we will consider two issues: how questions serve as challenges while answers function as ripostes, and how the responsive chreia is formally structured as an exchange of challenge and riposte.
D. The Responsive Chreia and the Typical Challenge to Honor
Responsive chreiai were introduced in various ways indicative of the aggressive or competitive nature of the questions asked. Hock and O’Neil have observed that responsive chreiai frequently are provoked by “praise, reproach or rebuke,” and that the provocation should be culturally interpreted as a challenge to the honor, reputation, and worth of the sage.47 The response of the sage to the provocative challenge should likewise be culturally interpreted as a riposte to the challenge. “Challenge and riposte” are but the scientific or etic labels for what the natives understand in terms of a provocation to which a “response” is made. On this point, the etic description adequately fits the emic data; scientific descriptions of challenge to honor express in more general terms what is encoded in the responsive chreia. Hence, chreiai describe provocations or challenges of some sort. Moreover, when we compare the formal elements of a typical responsive chreia with the choreography of a challenge to honor, we can observe a striking homology. After all, the very classification of a chreia as “responsive” means that it responds to something, a provocation or challenge.
Thus, we have the requisite interpretative tools to assess the controversies of Jesus in the Gospel of Mark: (1) data on “questions” as a challenging weapon, (2) knowledge of the responsive chreia, which embodies both provocative questions and answers, and (3) the cultural framework of challenges to honor in a world of limited good, which is the cultural background of most responsive chreiai.
IV. Questions in Responsive Chreiai in Mark: Challenge and Riposte
My survey of the Gospel of Mark surfaces at least the following examples of responsive chreiai in Mark: 2:1-12,15-17,18-22,23-28; 3:1-6,22-30,31-35; 4:35-41; 6:1-6; 7:1-13; 8:11-13; 9:9-13; 10:2-9,13-16,17-22,35-41; 11:27-33; 12:13-17,18-27,28-34,35-37. We label these as “responsive” chreiai because they correspond closely to the rhetorical definition of this type by Aelius Theon and other authors of progymnasmata.48 Dibelius noted that the form of a chreia might be somewhat fluid, but that a chreia always contained a “situation” which evoked or provoked a saying.49 Most of the chreiai in Mark have a brief setting followed by some word or action which requires Jesus to respond. In one case (3:2), enemies “watched him, to see whether he would heal on the sabbath,” an action which provoked a response from Jesus. In another instance (4:37-38), a storm causes the disciples to rebuke Jesus with a question. But the Marcan chreiai generally begin with a provocation which requires a response by Jesus. Most of these chreiai portray enemies and critics of Jesus issuing a provocation whose tone appears quite hostile. Yet the Gospel of Mark also contains exchanges between teacher and disciple, some of which depict the disciples requesting information (4:10-13; 10:23-31) or presenting problems to Jesus for a solution (7:14-22; 9:38-41), or depict Jesus sternly questioning disciples for their failure to understand (8:14-21).So We focus, however, on the situations in which critics or enemies provoke Jesus, generally by a censorious remark or action to which he cleverly responds. In particular, we examine the role of questions, both the provocation and the response.
A. Responsive Chreiai Provoked by Challenging Questions From our list we can identify twenty responsive chreiai which begin with a provocation in the form of a question.5 Fourteen of them start with someone asking Jesus a question, while a few begin with Jesus asking a question of others. For example,
2:16 “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” 2:18 “Why do John’s disciples and the disciples of the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not fast?”
7:5 “Why do your disciples not live according to the tradition of the elders, but eat with hands defiled?”
10:2 “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?”
11:28 “By what authority are you doing these things, or who gave you this authority to do them?”52
Other episodes begin with Jesus asking questions; for example:
3:4 “Is it lawful on the sabbath to do good or to do harm, to save life or to kill?”
12:35 “How can the scribes say that the Christ is the son of David?”
What we have learned about the use of questions leads us to see that the questions asked of Jesus and by him are never dispassionate requests for information; they are challenges which put him, his disciples, or his opponents on the spot.53 Mark notes this when he narrates that Jesus’ questioners “argue” with him and “test” him (…), or when Pharisees and Herodians come to “entrap” Jesus in his speech (… …).54 By the same token, the questions which Jesus asks in 3:4; 11:17; 12:35 should likewise be assessed as aggressive weapons.
From a literary point of view, Mark quickly teaches his audience a list of Jesus’ enemies. Those who ask Jesus questions all turn out to be his adversaries who constantly criticize him, plot his harm, test him, seek to entrap him, and the like. Even if Mark does not label their questions in some way as hostile and challenging ones, the general character of the narrative indicates that questions are agonistic weapons, simply because they come from Jesus’ enemies.
B. Responsive Chreiai Which Answer a Question with a Counterquestion
The rules for the chreia in the progymnasmata indicate that a response or answer to a challenging question is necessary. After all, the function of a responsive chreia lies in its showcasing the wisdom and cleverness of a sage by his successful reply. The sage must say something clever and witty or lose his reputation, because the provocation challenges his role and reputation. While many chreiai report some clever statement by the sage, Mark overwhelmingly presents Jesus responding by answering a question with a counterquestion.55 It is striking that of the fourteen responsive chreiai which begin with a question asked of Jesus, twelve cast his answer as a counterquestion. Consider, for example, these four samples:
2:19 “Can the wedding guests fast while the bridegroom is with them?”
2:23-26 “Have you never read what David did, when he was in need and was hungry?”
11:29-30 “I will ask you a question; answer me, and I will tell you by what authority I do these things. Was the baptism of John from heaven or from men? Answer me.”
12:15-16 “Why do you put me to the test? … Whose likeness and inscription is this?”56
If questions serve an aggressive function, then Jesus expertly plays the game and wields his weapons as well as, or better than, his opponents do. By the code of ancient rhetoric concerning the grounds for praise, Jesus displays extraordinary prowess and thus merits the loyalty and respect of his disciples.
C. Rhetoric: Responsive Chreiai and Culture; Challenge and Riposte
We are not finished, for we should examine the responsive chreiai in Mark in the light of what cultural anthropologists describe as the ubiquitous game of push and shove or challenge and riposte. Earlier, we suggested a homology between the key elements of the responsive chreia and the exchange of challenge and riposte, which we examine more formally now. In terms of its native rhetorical form, the responsive chreia contains a provocation which occasions a response. The provocation in Mark nearly always consists of a critical question asked of Jesus, and the response comes in the form of a counterquestion. Insofar as we have been successful in arguing the aggressive or hostile nature of questions, the responsive chreia in Mark portrays a contest or controversy. In terms of cultural anthropology, these pivotal elements of provocation and response fully reflect the common social interchange labeled by the social scientists as challenge and riposte. Why bring in the cultural material? What purpose does it serve? Knowledge of challenge and riposte makes salient what often is unclear, namely, the hostile and aggressive character of most responsive chreiai in Mark.
While it is true that not all responsive chreiai are hostile, the ones listed here all contain a provocation which is either a criticism of Jesus’ behavior, a question to trap him in his speech, or a hostile scrutiny of his words and actions. In rhetorical analysis according to an emic description of the responsive chreia, such chreiai are labeled as “provocations” which occasion or demand a response from a sage; in cultural analysis according to etic description of competitive social exchange, such chreiai are labeled as challenges which require a riposte.
Recalling Pitt-Rivers’s definition of honor as a claim to worth which is acknowledged,5 we quickly see that Mark’s narrative consists of a constant testing of Jesus’ claim to be a reforming prophet or an authorized son of God and a constant refusal to acknowledge the claim. When Jesus first appeared in public, he entered the synagogue on the Sabbath and taught. Here, at least, Mark notes that the crowds “were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one who had authority” (1:21). Teaching presumes a claim to a certain role and social standing, for not all people have voice in Mark’s world.58 In Mark 1:21-28, then, the claim to honor is embedded in the public activity of teaching, which in this case is acknowledged, first in v. 22 and then in v. 27 at the conclusion of the pericope: “They were amazed, so that they questioned among themselves, saying, `What is this? A new teaching! With authority he commands even the unclean spirits and they obey him.”‘ In this case, acknowledgment is equivalent to a public verdict of honor to Jesus, with accompanying increase in reputation and respect: “At once his fame spread everywhere throughout all the surrounding region of Galilee” (1:28). Inasmuch as he is said to perform better than the scribes, they are publicly judged as losing respect and reputation.
Yet after that, many refuse to acknowledge his role and status. While we do not wish to reduce the entire conflict between Jesus and the Pharisees, the scribes, and others to issues of envy, nevertheless, in a world where all goods are thought to exist in limited supply and where there is intense competition for honor, we expect challenges to claims. Since it is God who ascribes to Jesus his role and status (1:11), ideally there ought not to be challenges to God’s sovereignty. Certain characters in the narrative audience of Mark, however, do not evaluate Jesus’ honor ascribed by God (3:22), and others see it simply as personal achievement (6:2-3). Since they would typically perceive themselves as persons losing honor and respect as Jesus gains it, they challenge his claims.59 This, we maintain, is what happens in all of the responsive chreiai that we are examining; that is why the critical and hostile questions asked of Jesus are challenges to his identity and authority, that is, to his worth or honor. Those who stand to lose face and respect envy Jesus in turn (see Mark 15:10) and express that envy in terms of challenges. But in Mark’s records, Jesus is always highly successful in answering his critics, that is, in delivering an appropriate riposte to the challenges. And, as we saw, his favorite rhetorical weapon is the same one used on him, namely, the question. Of considerable importance to this study is the assertion that the conflictual social relations described in the Marcan chreiai take place in public, in the arena where grants of honor or shame are awarded the participants. In our table above, the public verdict appears in the narrative only occasionally, but we are quick to note that the ancient world presumed that males were in “public” all the time, except when in the privacy of their household. The evangelist often tells us that Jesus is “in public,” in the synagogue, on the streets, traveling to another town, teaching in the temple, and so on. Thus, some audience always observes both challenge and riposte. We must be careful to read the passages in which Jesus appears to be “at home” in the light of the gender division of ancient society, when unrelated males are gathered together even “at home”; this is still “public” in the sense that it is exclusively male territory and thus a public spectacle. Hence, even when Jesus was “at home” (2:1), his residence was filled with unrelated males, both friends and enemies. The narrative does not always make it evident that a public is observing provocation and response, challenge and riposte, but an audience is there, and it does its job of observing the challenge and riposte and of awarding victory and honor to one party, defeat and shame to the other. Moreover, the very gospel presumes another public, namely, Mark’s readers, who serve as an audience also crediting Jesus with honor and respect. Thus, students of the controversy stories in Mark should examine them both in terms of their emic rhetorical form (responsive chreiai) and their cultural dynamics (challenges to honor and ripostes). If the template of a responsive chreia highlights the provocation and response of a sage, the model of challenge and riposte emphasizes the aggressiveness and hostility of the provocation and the requirement of an honorable riposte. Our appreciation of how questions are weapons wielded either as aggressive challenges or as responsive ripostes underscores the combative character of the responsive chreia in Mark. At stake in each confrontation are the reputation and fame of Jesus as wise sage and prophet.
D. Telling Winners and Losers
In two ways Mark tells us who won or lost in the game of challenge and riposte: it was a matter either of silence or of hostile reaction. According to the rules of the game, when a questioner asks a question which stumps or silences the person questioned, this constitutes a victory. Epictetus offers a classic illustration of this:
When someone in his audience said, “Convince me that logic is necessary,” he answered: “Do you wish me to demonstrate this to you?”-“Yes.”-“Well, then, must I use a demonstrative argument?”-And when the questioner had agreed to that, Epictetus asked him, “How, then, will you know if I impose upon you?”-As the man had no answer to give, Epictetus said: “Do you see how you yourself admit that all this instruction is necessary, if, without it, you cannot so much as know whether it is necessary or not?” (Arrian Epict. Diss. 2.25) The initial request provokes or challenges Epictetus; although it is not itself in the form of a question, it calls into question the teacher’s status. Epictetus answers this with a question, in fact, with a series of questions, all of which have the purpose of exposing the ignorance of the questioner or petitioner and so reducing him to silence: “The man had no answer to give.” Thus, narrative audiences know who won the contest by observing who is “reduced to silence.” Failure to answer a question indicates loss of ability and so the end of the game, which means loss of honor. Having the last word was important, then as now.61
Mark narrates how on one occasion Jesus asked a question to which those questioned could not, or would not reply: “`Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do harm?’ But they were silent” (Mark 3:4)-with a silence clearly signaling victory for Jesus. On another occasion, Jesus asks a counterquestion which his audience refuses to answer: “`Was the baptism of John from heaven or from man?’ . . . They answered, `We do not know”‘ (11:30, 33). The audience knows that Jesus’ question has put the chief priests and the scribes in a “no-win situation”; hence, their “silence” or refusal to answer counts as defeat: “Neither will I tell you by what authority I do these things” (11:33b). Finally, Mark narrates how Jesus’ questioners, after unsuccessfully attempting to defeat him in the stylized game of questions (12:13-34),62 were silent and silenced: “After that no one dared to ask him any questions” (12:34).
In a second mode, Mark indicates that those who were bested in the exchange of question and counterquestion express their defeat by plotting vengeance to avenge their humiliation. Those silenced by Jesus in 3:4 subsequently plot his destruction (3:6), which in the culture of that place and time should be interpreted as their attempt at revenge for their loss. Similarly, those reduced to silence by Jesus’ question concerning the temple subsequently plot revenge: when he asked, “Is it not written, `My house shall be a house of prayer for all the nations’?” (11:17) they “sought a way to destroy him” (11:18).
Similarly, Mark reports Jesus’ victory in various ways. Luke expresses the ideal public verdict on an exchange of challenge and riposte with the notice that “as [Jesus] said this, all his adversaries were put to shame; and all the people rejoiced at all the glorious things that were done by him” (Luke 13:17). Yet Mark communicates this same sense of victory in his account of the reactions of the public observers of the exchanges of challenge and riposte: they react with amazement at his words (Eat, Mark 2:12), glorification of God for his actions (…, 2:12), awe at his performance (…, 4:41), and amazement at his response (…, 12:17), the crowds gladly hearing him (12:37). On one occasion, the scribe who has asked Jesus a hard question praises his answer: “You are right, Teacher; you have truly said that God is one” (12:32). Yet while Mark provides these occasional reports of Jesus’ success and his enemies’ loss, he continually, although implicitly, acknowledges Jesus’ success, and so his worthiness of honor and prestige.
V Conclusions and Further Questions
A. What Do We Know If We Know This?
In terms of rhetorical background, what we have seen in our survey of questions indicates that they function more often than not as competitive, even hostile, weapons intended to inflict major damage. Questions score points, draw blood, and shame opponents. The same interpretation applies equally to the phenomenon of a question answered with a counterquestion, which also is an aggressive weapon. By observing who is reduced to silence, we have narrative clues about who triumphed in the question game and who lost. Moreover, we now know more both about the form and about the function of the responsive chreia. By focusing on why and how a chreia is labeled “responsive,” and by bringing to bear the material on “question” vis-a-vis the provocation of a responsive chreia, we have a better understanding of both the shape and the intent of the responsive chreia in Mark. We note in particular the importance of appreciating that the occasion for a responsive chreia is a provocation, often a question asked, an objection stated, or a reproach or insult given.
In terms of Mark’s cultural world, the anthropology of honor and shame allows us to situate responsive chreiai in their appropriate cultural context and further enriches our appreciation of the rhetorical strategy of reporting chreiai, namely, to honor the clever sage by showcasing his prowess in the culturally valued game of quick-wittedness. Furthermore, we have learned more about the pursuit of honor in the ancient world and about the agonistic nature of most social intercourse. It is imperative that we appreciate how the ancients viewed all things in the perspective of limited good and so played a zero-sum game in terms of honor: if someone gains, another must lose. Hence, all claims to honor threaten other people, and those who are threatened respond with a challenge, lest they be losers in the game of gaining respect and repute. Moreover, the anthropology of honor and shame describes the typical choreography of conflictual social relationships which are stylized in the rhetorical form of a responsive chreia. This form (claim, challenge, riposte, and public verdict) provides the social and cultural framework of responsive chreiai. We argue that what rhetoricians call responsive chreiai are homologous with what anthropologists identify as exchanges of challenge and riposte. Finally, anthropological discussions of honor and shame represent the reflections of scholars who have done years of exacting field work. This study of both the “question” and the responsive chreia should rightly be considered as one more piece of field work; we now have an important emic or native report about ancient cultural life.
In terms of Mark’s rhetorical education, both the question and the responsive chreia are native evidence of what we call the “great code” of honor and shame in the ancient Mediterranean world. Students able to write Greek at Mark’s level typically learned this through progymnastic education, in which they were taught to write chreiai. Moreover, as they learned the rhetorical form of the chreia, they learned the code of honor which is embodied in it: how to attack, provoke, and challenge, as well as how to respond and answer. Although I would maintain that the values of honor and shame permeate the ancient world in areas of social life independent of education, here at least we find a formal school, not simply for learning rhetorical genres but for refining one’s sense of the dominant cultural values of honor and shame. Since Greco-Roman rhetorical education was available from Britain to Babylon, we may safely speak of a “Mediterranean” literary culture and value system which incorporated most of what was left of “Hellenization” after Alexander. Rhetorical education itself embodied the culture of honor and shame and spread it.
Finally, when all of this material is brought to bear on Mark, we appreciate first of all how the evangelist regularly employs the rhetorical form of the responsive chreia to showcase the wisdom and cleverness of Jesus. The frequent use of the responsive chreia in Mark, moreover, indicates that Jesus was forever under siege and was always challenged. This means that in the eyes of the evangelist, he lived a typical agonistic public life, both claiming and defending his special role and status, and being very successful in doing so. Like most honorable people in antiquity, he is a skilled combatant! He accepts challenges (i.e., questions) and parries them expertly by asking counterquestions. No turning of the cheek here! If questions are weapons, then Jesus deserves an Olympic medal for prowess in asking questions which silence his opponents! The few instances of Jesus’ asking a question which begins an episode indicate that the evangelist was presenting him not simply as a defensive expert who fends off challenges but also as someone who initiates conflict. If this conflict is read in the light of honor and shame, it functions to shame his opponents and win him further honor.
B. Further Questions
We have focused on questions which occur in the genre known as the responsive chreia. Mark’s gospel contains many other instances of questions asked.63 It is beyond the scope of this article to analyze each instance, but the materials presented here about the aggressive nature of questions provide important interpretative background from the cultural world of Mark and should be taken into account as we interpret each instance. Proper assessment in light of the materials presented in this article should lead to a sharper understanding of the rhetorical strategy of Mark, which has much to do with acknowledging the honorable claims of Jesus.
Vernon K. Robbins, Jesus the Teacher: A Socio-rhetorical Interpretation of Mark (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992) 136-66.
2 On the controversy form, see Rudolf Bultmann, History of the Synoptic Tradition (New York: Harper & Row, 1968) 39-54; Arland J. Hultgren, Jesus and His Adversaries: The Form and Function of the Conflict Stories in the Synoptic Tradition (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1979).
3 For the interpretation of Jesus’ controversies in anthropological terms as exchanges of challenge and riposte, see Bruce J. Malina and Jerome H. Neyrey, “Honor and Shame in Luke-Acts: Pivotal Values of the Mediterranean World,” in The Social World of Luke-Acts: Models for Interpretation (ed. Jerome H. Neyrey; Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1991) 29-32, 49-52; Richard L. Rohrbaugh, “Legitimating Sonship – A Test of Honour: A Social-scientific Study of Luke 4:1-30,” in Modelling Early Christianity: Social-Scientific Studies of the New Testament in Its Context (ed. Philip F Esler; London: Routledge, 1995) 183-97; Jerome H. Neyrey, “The Trials (Forensic) and Tribulations (Honor Challenges) of Jesus: John 7 in Social Science Perspective,” BTB 26 (1996) 116-23.
4 Ronald E Hock and Edward N. O’Neil (The Chreia in Ancient Rhetoric 1: The Progymnasmata [SBLTT 27; Graeco-Roman Religion Series 9; Atlanta: Scholars, 1986] 49) talk about both a humorous and a didactic function, all to the credit of the sage. See also Henry A. Fischel, “Studies in Cynicism and the Ancient Near East: The Transformation of a Chria,” in Religions in Antiquity: Essays in Memory of E. R. Goodenough (Supplements to Numen 14; ed. Jacob Neusner; Leiden: Brill, 1968) 372-411. Yet not all chreiai function to give honor to the sage. Henry A. Fischel (Rabbinic Literature and Greco-Roman Philosophy: A Study of Epicurea and Rhetorica in Early Midrashic Writings [SPB 21; Leiden: Brill, 1973] 79) describes a chreia which is meant to “ridicule the sage as absent-minded, impractical, or other-worldly, and demonstrates that he contradicts his own principles in word or deed.” If not praise or honor, then blame or shame.
5 A semantic word field for “question” would include (point of dispute, question), (examination, quarrel, dispute), (matter of doubt, question, puzzle), dnopia (question for discussion, difficulty, puzzle), (that which is asked, question), (questioning, interrogation), mTn,ua (that which is sought, question, inquiry), (inquiry, question), and arustS (main question of an investigation).
6 We will not attempt to analyze or classify types of questions. On rhetorical questions, see Wilhelm Wuellner, “Paul as Pastor: The Function of Rhetorical Questions in First Corinthians,” in LAp6tre Paul: Personalite, Style et Conception du Ministere (BETL 73; ed. A. Vanhoye; Leuven: Leuven University Press/ Peeters, 1986) 50-72; Duane E Watson, “1 Corinthians 10:2311:1 in Light of Greco-Roman Rhetoric: The Role of Rhetorical Questions,” JBL 108 (1989) 308-18.
7 All texts and translations of Greco-Roman literature are taken from the Loeb Classical Library.
8 See Gerasimos Xenophon Santas, “Socratic Questions and Assumptions,” in Socrates: Philosophy in Plato’s Early Dialogues (London: Routledge dc Kegan Paul, 1979) 57-96; Michael C. Stokes, Plato’s Socratic Conversations: Drama and Dialectic in Three Dialogues (London: Athlone, 1986); Ian Kidd, “Socratic Questions,” in Socratic Questions,” in Socratic Questions: New Essays on the Philosophy of Socrates and Its Significance (ed. Barry S. Gower and Michael C. Stokes; London: Routledge, 1992) 82-92; Gregory Vlastos, “The Socratic Elenchus: Method Is All,” in Socratic Studies (ed. Myles Burnyeat; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994) 1-38. 9 Epictetus spoke about a process of interrogation (i.e., Socratic questioning) which he called the “contest of question and answer.” The phrase “question and answer” …Kai … seems to be a code phrase for Socratic questioning (Arrian Epict. Diss. 1.7.3, 4, 26).
‘o The practice of conducting philosophical discussion by means of question and answer survives Plato and becomes a genre of disputation found commonly in the works of Cicero and Plutarch. Here, questions are hardly requests for information; they are rather challenges to certain formally espoused doctrines. Refutation of ideas results in public shame. ” For example, topics in Epictetus’ discourses are introduced by a formal interrogative, such as no… Ti, or TiS. These questions and answers distinguish different schools of thought and so have embedded in them a polemical edge. Epictetus’ questions differ in content and tone from Plutarch’s Greek Questions and Roman Questions, which give evidence of more neutral antiquarian or historical interests. Plutarch’s Questions (A;nat) are thought to depend in form on Pseudo-Aristotle’s Problems; see H. J. Rose, Roman Questions of Plutarch (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1924) 49. Other examples of this sort of “question” in Plutarch would include those in his Quaestiones Naturales …cai), Quaestiones Platonicae (rl?… …’… and Quaestionum Convivalium Libri …DV npO…otaK6v ia).
See Stanley K. Stowers, The Diatribe and Paul’s Letter to the Romans (SBLDS 57; Chico, CA: Scholars, 1981); also idem, “The Diatribe,” in Greco-Roman Literature and the New Testament: Selected Forms and Genres (ed. David E. Aune; SBLSBS 21; Atlanta: Scholars, 1988) 71-83.
3 Stowers, Diatribe and Paul’s Letter to the Romans, 76. Epictetus amply illustrates the way in which questions are used in diatribal censure and indictment; see Arrian Epict. Diss. 2.25.
“4 Sze-kar Wan, “Philo’s Quaestiones et solutiones in Genesim: A Synoptic Approach,” in SBLSP 1993, 24-33; see Heinrich Dorrie and Hermann Dorries, “Eratopokriseis,” RAC 6 (1966) 342-70. 1 am indebted to Gregory Sterling for allowing me to consult his analysis of this genre, which is forthcoming as The Jewish Plato: Philo of Alexandria, Greek-Speaking Judaism, and Christian Origins.
5 Porphyry Schol. Hom. Ad II. 9.682, cited by Wan, “Philo’s Quaestiones et solutiones in Genesim,” 27.
“6 Emphasis mine. See John Dillon and Jackson Hershbell, lamblichus, On the Pythagorean Way of Life (SBLTT 29; Graeco-Roman Religion Series I1; Atlanta: Scholars, 1991) 107.
” Plutarch (Moralia: Dinner of the Seven Wise Men 152F) recounts a “contest (&wika) of wisdom” between the kings of Ethiopia and Egypt. “8 The same contest is reported by Clement of Alexandria Strom. 6.4. 9 “Men are glad to be asked what they are able to answer easily, that is, questions about matters in which they have experience; for about what they do not know, either they say nothing or are chagrined as though asked for what they cannot give or they reply with a guess and an uncertain conjecture and so find themselves in a distressing and dangerous situation” (Moralia: Table Talk 2.!.630A).
Among the celebrated solvers of conundrums and riddles one thinks of Oedipus, Samson (Judg 14:12-20), and Solomon (I Kgs 10:1-5; Josephus, A.J 8.5.3 143); see James L. Crenshaw, “Riddles,” ABD, 4. 721-23.
21 The chreia enjoyed a long history in Greek literature; see Jan F Kindstrand, “Diogenes Laertius and the Chreia Tradition,” Elenchos 7 (1986) 219-43. Important current studies of the chreia include Hock and O’Neil, Chreia in Ancient Rhetoric 1, 3-60; Burton L. Mack and Vernon K. Robbins, Patterns of Persuasion in the Gospels (Foundations and Facets; Sonoma, CA: Polebridge, 1989); see also Burton L. Mack, “Decoding the Scripture: Philo and the Rules of Rhetoric,” in Nourished with Peace: Studies in Hellenistic Judaism in Memory of Samuel Sandmel (Homage Series 9; ed. Frederick E. Greenspahn, Earle Hilgert, and Burton L. Mack; Chico, CA: Scholars, 1984) 81-115.
22 The definition is from Aphthonius, cited in Hock and O’Neil, Chreia in Ancient Rhetoric 1, 23.
23 On the significance of the chreia in relationship to the gospels, the following works of Vernon K. Robbins are uniquely valuable: “Classifying Pronouncement Stories in Plutarch’s Parallel Lives,” Semeia 20 (1981) 33-42; “Pronouncement Stories and Jesus’ Blessing of the Children: A Rhetorical Approach,” Semeia 29 (1983) 43-74; “A Rhetorical Typology for Classifying and Analyzing Pronouncement Stories,” in SBLSP 1984, 93-112; “Pronouncement Stories from a Rhetorical Perspective,” Forum 4/2 (1988) 1-31; “The Chreia,” in Greco-Roman Literature and the New Testament (ed. David Aune; SBLSBS 21; Atlanta: Scholars, 1988) 1-23; “Introduction: Using Rhetorical Discussions of the Chreia to Interpret Pronouncement Stories,” Semeia 64 (1994) vii-xvii.
24 The progymnasmata used in this study are of Aelius Theon of Alexandria (Leonhard von Spengel, Rhetores Graeci [3 vols.; Bibliotheca Scriptorum Graecorum et Romanorum Teubneriana; Leipzig: Teubner, 1853 56] 2. 112.20-I IS.10; see James R. Butts, “The ‘Progymnasmata’ of Theon: A New Text with Translation and Commentary” [Ph.D. diss., Graduate School, Claremont, 1986]); Hermogenes of Tarsus (von Spengel, Rhetores Graeci, 2. 14.8-15.5; see Charles Sears Baldwin, Medieval Rhetoric and Poetic (to 1400) Interpreted from Representative Works [New York: Macmillan, 1928] 23-38); Menander Rhetor (see D. A. Russell and N. G. Wilson, Menander Rhetor [Oxford: Clarendon,1981]); and Aphthonius of Ephesus (von Spengel, Rhetores Graeci, 2. 42.2044.19; see Ray Nadeau, “The Progymnasmata of Aphthonius in Translation,” Speech Monographs 19  264-85; more recently, Readings from Classical Rhetoric [ed. Patricia P Matsen, Philip Rollinson, and Marion Sousa; Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1990] 266-88).
25 Theon Progymnasmata 3.22-70 (Butts, “‘Progymnasmata’ of Theon,” 186-95). 26 The following examples illustrate the first two species of the responsive chreia. As an example of the first kind of responsive chreia, namely, a question which can be answered with a simple yes or no, Hock and O’Neil cite this: “Diogenes, on leaving the baths said ‘No’ to the one who asked if many men were bathing, but ‘Yes’ to another who asked if a large crowd was there” (Diogenes Laertius 6.40; Hock and O’Neil, Chreia in Ancient Rhetoric 1, 29). Illustrative of the second type of responsive chreia, that of a question which requires a longer answer, is the anecdote about Aristotle: “When someone inquired why we spend much time with the beautiful, `That,’ he said, `is a blind man’s question”‘ (Diogenes Laertius 5.20).
27 Readers will quickly note that the broad category of responsive chreia described by ancient rhetoricians has been further distinguished in the modern classification of “apophthegms” and “pronouncement stories”; see Kindstrand, “Diogenes Laertius and the Chreia Tradition,” 221-24. See in particular Robert C. Tannehill, “Types and Functions of Apophthegms in the Synoptic Gospels,” in ANRW 2: Principat, 25/2. 1792 1803; idem, “Introduction: The Pronouncement Story and Its Types,” Semeia 20 (1981) 6-10; idem, “Varieties of Synoptic Pronouncement Stories,” Semeia 20 (1981) 107-Il, 114-16; Robbins, “Classifying Pronouncement Stories,” 3342; Paula Nassen Poulos, “Form and Function of the Pronouncement Story in Diogenes Laertius’ Lives,” Semeia 20 (1981) 54-59. Zs Hock and O’Neil, Chreia in Ancient Rhetoric 1, 4.
29Some types either develop tension (the correction story) or begin with it and embody conflict (the objection story); see Tannehill, “Introduction,” 6-7; idem, “Varieties,” 103-4. Inquiry stories are by classification neutral questions or requests for information (“Introduction,” 10; “Varieties,” 114); yet Tannehill (“Varieties,” 1 IS) describes a “testing inquiry” which is far from being a neutral request for information. The aggressive tone of the objection chreia was noted by other contributors to Semeia 20, notably Robbins and Poulos.
Cited by Hock and O’Neil, Chreia in Ancient Rhetoric 1, 30. ll Cited ibid., 31.
32 Diogenes Laertius frequently records the provocation as some sort of agonistic challenge by noting how it is stated in some form of reproach or ridicule: chreiai might begin with some form of (1.104; 2.68, 69, 72; 4.47; 5.17; 6.1, 4, 6, 49, 56, 58, 63, 66, 67; 7.171, 174, 182; 8.82), of (2.36, 70; 5.18; 9.29), of ai- or airiw (ainsa,u;vou, 2.76; npo -ov 6)pV diT103, , 2.50, 74, 76, 80; 4.49; 6.47), of , (2.75, 77), or of (2.79).
33 In regard to rabbinic literature, David Daube (The New Testament and Rabbinic Judaism [The Jewish People: History, Religion, Literature; New York: Arno, 1973] 141-69) studied three types of questions in rabbinic literature. In the chapter “Public Retort and Private Explanation,” he outlined one form as: “(I) a question by an outsider, (2) retort good enough for him but not revealing the deeper truth, (3) the request of the disciples, and (4) the full explanation in private” (p. 142); in certain stories beginning with a question, the sage answers by asking his own question (pp. 144-45). In the chapter called “Socratic Interrogation,” Daube examines the form in which a man who is attacked by a question responds by means of a counterquestion (p. 151). Finally, Daube cites a talmudic passage (b. Nid. 69b) as model for the questions asked Jesus in Mark 12: “Our Rabbis taught: Twelve questions did the Alexandrians address to R. Joshua b. Hananiah. Three were of a scientific nature, three were matters of aggada, three were mere nonsense and three were matters of conduct” (pp. 158-69).
34 Major anthropological studies of Mediterranean honor include Honour and Shame: The Values of Mediterranean Society (Nature of Human Society Series; ed. J. G. Peristiany; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1966); Julian Pitt-Rivers, The Fate of Shechem; or, the Politics of Sex: Essays in the Anthropology of the Mediterranean (Cambridge Studies in Social Anthropology 19; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977); idem, “Honor,” in International Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences (17 vols.; ed. David L. Sills; New York: Macmillan, 1968) 6. 503-1; Honor and Shame and the Unity of the Mediterranean (ed. David D. Gilmore; Special Publication of the American Anthropological Association 22; Washington, DC: American Anthropological Association, 1987). For adaptation of this material to the cultural world of the New Testament, see n. 3 above; see also Semeia 69 (1996), a volume on honor and shame in the world of the Bible edited by Don C. Benjamin and Victor H. Matthews.
35 Pitt-Rivers (Fate of Shechem, 1) defines honor as “the value of a person in his own eyes, but also in the eyes of his society. It is his estimation of his own worth, his claim to pride, but it is also the acknowledgment of that claim, his excellence recognized by society, his right to pride.”
36 See Questions and Politeness: Strategies in Social Interaction (Cambridge Papers in Social Anthropology 8; ed. Esther N. Goody; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1978) esp. pp. 17-43.
37 On the agonistic nature of ancient society, see Jean-Pierre Vernant, Myth and Society in Ancient Greece (New York: Zone, 1988) 29-56; Peter Walcot, Envy and the Greeks: A Study of Human Behaviour (Warminster: Aris & Phillips, 1978) 52-76; Alvin W Gouldner, Enter Plato: Classical Greece and the Origins of Social Theory (New York: Basic Books, 1965) 41-77; David Cohen, Law, Violence, and Community in Classical Athens (Key Themes in Ancient History; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995) esp. pp. 70-75, 90-101, 128. Christopher A. Faraone (“The Agonistic Context of Early Greek Binding Spells,” in Magika Hiera: Ancient Greek Magic and Religion [ed. Christopher A. Faraone and Dirk Obbink; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991] 10-17) has examined binding spells in the Hellenistic world and has classified them in terms of four “agonistic contexts”: commercial curses, curses against athletes and public performers, amatory curses, and judicial curses.
38 The translation is that of A. E. Taylor in The Collected Dialogues of Plato (ed. Edith Hamilton and Huntingon Cairns; Bollingen Series 71; Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1961) 1227-28.
39 Xenophon (Mem. 3.3.13), thinking positively of uia, praises the Athenians for this most noble pursuit: “Athenians excel all others not so much in singing or in stature or in strength, as in the love of honor (cp , which is the strongest incentive to deeds of honour and renown.”
4′ “He [God] granted supremacy to men who for the sake of honour, praise and glory served the country in which they were seeking their own glory, and did not hesitate to prefer her safety to their own. Thus for one vice, that is, love of praise, they overcame the love of money and many other vices” (Augustine The City of God 5.13). Negative evaluations of c8i3.ort[ict abound in Greek literature; see Plutarch Precepts of Statecraft 805F and Old Men in Public 788E.
“‘ George M. Foster, “Peasant Society and the Image of Limited Good,” American Anthropologist 67 (1965) 296, emphasis in the original; see also his article “Cultural Responses to Expressions of Envy in Tzintzuntzan,” Southwest Journal of Anthropology 21 (1965) 24-35. Students of classical Greece have indicated the applicability of this notion to aspects of ancient Hellenic culture; see Walcot, Envy and the Greeks, 22; David Cohen, Law, Sexuality, and Society: The Enforcement of Morals in Classical Athens (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991) 183-98; idem, Law, Violence and Community in Classical Athens. 26, 63-70; J. Elster, “Norms of Revenge,” Ethics 100 (1990) 862-85.
‘2 Foster, “Peasant Society, 297, emphasis in the original. ” George M. Foster, “The Anatomy of Envy: A Study in Symbolic Behavior,” Current Anthropology 13 (1972) 168-69.
44 I am indebted to Prof. K. C. Hanson for pointing out Judg 7:2 as a typical illustration of this in the Hebrew Scriptures: God requires Gideon to reduce the size of his force to ridiculous smallness, lest by his victory with a numerous army he boast that his “own hand” has delivered him, thus suppressing God’s share of the glory.
as Anonymus lamblici in Hermann Diels, Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker, griechisch und deutsch (5th ed.; 3 vols.; ed. Walther Kranz; Berlin: Weidmann, 1934-37) 2. 400. 4 Chief among these reports is that of Pierre Bourdieu, “The Sentiment of Honour in Kabyle Society,” in Honour and Shame (ed. Peristiany), 191-241.
” Hock nd O’Neil, Clis in Ancient Rl ct. 1i, 30-31.
‘ Martin Dibelius (From Tradition to Gospel [New York: Scribner’s, 1965] 152-61) classified many of these same incidents as “chriae,” but Bultmann (History of the Synoptic Tradition, 12-23, 39-54) labeled them “apophthegms” and put them in a subspecies of apophthegm called the “controversy story.”
49 Dibelius, From Tradition to Gospel, 155-56.
so On the relationship of teachers and disciples, see Robbins. les the Teacher, 136-62. 1 In the pioneering studies of the “pronouncement story” in Semeia 20 (see n. 27 above), various authors call attention to stories which begin because of some “stimulus” or “challenge (e.g., Tannehill, “Introduction,” 7, 8). Others talk about the “adversive” character of certain stories and note the “role of adversary” in them (e.g., Robbins, “Classifying Pronouncement Stories,” 35, 39). Still others indicate how they begin with some sort of “faultfinding” (Poulos,
“Form and Function of the Pronouncement Story,” 57) or “testing” (Tannehill, “Varieties,” 103, 107, I IS).
52 Other examples in Mark are: 2:6-7, 24; 4:38; 6:2-3; 9:10; 10:17; 12:14-15, 23, 28. 53 We allow, of course, for the Marcan pattern in which Jesus’ disciples ask him the inner or parabolic meaning of his remarks when they are in private-a different type of question and answer (see 4:10-14; 7:17-22; 10:10-12, 23-31).
‘ Concerning the agonistic nature of the public discourse with Jesus, the narrator signals the provocation with terms such as catch (dypsuw, Mark 12:13), snare (OnpESm, Luke 11:54), snare (zArt&6o0, Matt 22: IS), lie in wait for, ambush (vEt)% Luke 11:54), argue with (orIxr), Mark 8:1 1; 9:14), test (ntpdto, Matt 16:1; 19:3; Mark 10:2), and observe so as to find cause for criticism (Mark 3:2).
55 On counterquestions as typical responses to questions, see Bultmann, History of the Synoptic Tradition, 41: in a dialogue of controversy “the reply to the attack follows more or less a set form, with special preference for the counterquestion or the metaphor, or even both together.” While Bultmann’s observation is remarkably intuitive, it is in no way supported by any relevant parallels in classical rhetorical literature. Other examples are 2:8-9; 3:23, 33; 4:40; 10:3, 18, 38; 12:24.
57 Pitt-Rivers, Fate of Shechem, I; see idem, “Honor,” 503-4. Ss Rohrbaugh (-Legitimating Sonship,” 186, 194-95), commenting on the inaugural appearance of Jesus in Luke’s Gospel, discusses who has sufficient status to have public voice in antiquity Not all males have public voice; very few if any females do (I Cor 14:33-36; I Tim 2:11-13); see Victor H. Matthews, “Female Voices: Upholding the Honor of the Household,” BTB 24 (1994) 8-15.
59 For example, the disciples of John the Baptizer complain to their teacher that Jesus’ success comes at their expense (John 3:26); far from issuing a challenge to Jesus, the Baptizer declares that in this case it is appropriate that “he must increase, but I must decrease” (3:30). Similarly, John reports to Jesus that za man cast out demons in your name and we forbade him, because he was not following us” (Mark 9:38). The disciple challenges the rival exorcist because
he perceives that success is coming at Jesus’ expense. Yet Jesus calls off the challenge, stating that in the long run any success of the alternate exorcist will redound to Jesus’ reputation: “Do not forbid him; for no one who does a mighty work in my name will be able soon after to speak evil of me” (9:39).
Luke 13:17 records the classic illustration of a public verdict. After Jesus heals the woman, the ruler of the synagogue asks a provoking question and is answered by Jesus’ counterquestion. The narrative audience then delivers a public verdict, awarding honor to Jesus and blame to his challengers: “As he said this, all his adversaries were put to shame; and all the people rejoiced at all the glorious things that were done by him” (13:17).
6″ Yet we must distinguish silence-as-defeat from silence-as-dismissal. A sage may remain silent when he is questioned, as a gesture of disdain to the questioner indicating that he does not consider himself in any way challenged by a stupid or improper question. For example, see the actions of Epictetus: “When an impious man asked him to define piety, he was silent; and when the other inquired for the reason, ‘I am silent,’ he replied, `because you are asking questions about what does not concern you”‘(Arrian Epict. Diss. 1.86). Hence, on the two occasions when Jesus is silent during his trial (Mark 14:60-61; 15:2-5), 1 am inclined to read his behavior in terms of honor and shame, rather than as a facile allusion to the Suffering Servant of Isaiah who was described as za sheep that before its shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth” (Isa 53:7). It is one thing to give a riposte to the challenges to Jesus’ honor (“Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?” 14:60; “Are you the king of the Jews?” 15:2), but quite another to disdain to
answer frivolous and false charges. Yet either in speech or in silence, Jesus maintains his honor before his questioners.
62 Daube, New Testament and Rabbinic Judaism, 158-69.
‘3 Por , Matt 1:24 3:23, 31-34; 4:10, 14, 21, 30, 49, 9, 331, 35; ls:37-38; 8:, S, II, 12, 17-21, 3637; 9.1Z 19, 229, 33, ; tO-, 3S, 3B;1I:S, I7 14:19,20, 37, ‘t 1*019, . “, !’5, 9, 12, 14, 34. fD
JEROME H. NEYREY, S.J.
University of Notre Dame
Notre Dame, IN 46556
Copyright Catholic Biblical Association of America Oct 1998
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