(avg. read time: 8–15 mins.)
History/Biography
Cato the Elder, Origins (fragments)1
Cornelius Nepos, The Book on the Great Generals of Foreign Nations (LCL 467)
Curtius, History of Alexander (LCL 368–369)
Florus, Epitome of Roman History (LCL 231)
Julius Caesar, Wars (LCL 39, 72, 402)
Livy, History of Rome (LCL 114, 133, 172, 191, 233, 295, 301, 313, 332, 355, 367, 381, 396, 404)
Pliny the Elder, Natural History (LCL 330, 352, 370, 371, 392, 393, 418, 394, 419)
Sallust, The War with Catiline (LCL 116)
Sallust, The War with Jugurtha (LCL 116)
Sallust, Histories (fragments)(LCL 522)
Suetonius, Lives of the Caesars (LCL 31, 38)
Tacitus, Histories (LCL 111, 249)
Tacitus, Annals (LCL 312, 322)
Tacitus, Agricola (LCL 35)
Velleius Paterculus, Compendium of Roman History (LCL 152)
The first extant historical work from the Romans notably sought to teach present and future generations what it meant to be Roman. Although Cato the Elder (234 BCE–149 BCE) was not the first to write about the subject of Roman history, he was the first to compose a history in Latin prose, a distinction that befits his traditionalism and opposition to Hellenization. As with the epics that preceded him, some of the fragments that remain of Cato’s work attest to central stories of Roman identity, such as the ancestral link of Rome with Troy and the story of Romulus and Remus.2 Indeed, even within the scope of histories, the work of Marcus (or Gaius) Velleius Paterculus (19 BCE–31 CE) demonstrates the influence of this paradigm, as his history of Rome begins with the Trojan War and ends with the death of Livia, Augustus’s wife.
In addition to this socio-political function of identity formation by appeal to this larger story, Roman historical works, especially biographies, could also have the function of moral formation. The historian that best exemplifies this function is Cornelius Nepos (ca. 110 BCE–25 BCE). This is especially clear in his use of moral exemplars in his collection of biographical works by which he appropriates the stories of foreign generals as part of the Roman story.
Beyond these purposes, histories could also serve propagandistic purposes, as we see especially, and unsurprisingly, in Julius Caesar’s (100 BCE–44 BCE) Wars. After all, in being a good general and disseminating reports of what he had done, Caesar was contributing to his own glory and the glory of Rome. Indeed, of all the histories, Caesar’s is the one by a figure who thought of his history as Rome’s developing history. This is interesting to study in itself, though his works are also valuable for being firsthand accounts.
Similarly propagandistic is the work of Gaius Sallustus Crispus [Sallust] (86 BCE–35 BCE). In fact, it is propagandistic in the same direction, as he wrote in such favor of Caesar, who was his patron. His work is also notable for being the first instance we see of what would become a popular framework among some Roman historians and later historians of Rome: describing Rome’s history as one of decline. For Sallust, the nail in the coffin of Rome’s decline was Caesar’s assassination. Others would take up this framework, but would readjust how they described the decline and where they placed crucial moments. After all, in his own time, Cicero, who we will discuss later, also saw Rome in decline, but he thought it was because of Caesar himself, and he celebrated Caesar’s assassination.
Perhaps the most comprehensive and clear historical account of Rome is Livy’s (64 or 59 BCE–12 or 17 CE) History of Rome, which exists today in fragments of what were originally 142 volumes. In contrast to Sallust, Livy portrays the rise of Rome without a corresponding decline, particularly since he seems to have been among the many who thought Roman history had reached its crescendo in the Augustan Age, as this motivated his account of “how we got here.” Livy’s work is so comprehensive because he adopts an annalistic model of historiography, rather than the more episodic one that had been popular. Of course, as the history gets closer to his own time and Livy has more information available on the time, he takes more and more space to narrate that history. Book 1 covers over some centuries from the landing of Aeneas in Italy—once again, showing how Rome traced its rise to the fall of Troy—to the end of the Kingdom of Rome. Books 2–10 cover the time from the founding of the Roman Republic near the end of the sixth century BCE to ~293 BCE during the Third Samnite War. The remaining extant books (the last almost complete one we have is Book 45) bring us to ~166 BCE. Later books are said to have covered even shorter spans each.
Pliny the Elder (23 CE–79 CE) provided a different type of history, not to mention other genres, in his Natural History. This work gives a systematic account of the natural world, metaphysics, and cosmology. Perhaps a work of philosophy as well, he nonetheless focused on presenting an historical understanding of the environments that were inhabited and how they worked.
Quintus Curtius Rufus (first century CE), despite providing the first extant account of Alexander the Great written in Latin, remains a profound historical mystery. It is unclear when he lived, although he is generally regarded as a figure of the first century CE writing after the Augustan Age. No historian of his time refers to him and he does not seem to have had any clear influence on his fellows. Still, his work is valuable as a Roman account of Alexander, especially in the fifth book’s reflection of the debate about how much devotion (particularly expressed in physical gestures) should be given to leaders.
Although Curtius does not seem to have influenced other historians of his era, Tacitus (ca. 56 CE–120 CE) produced some of the most widely read and influential accounts of Roman history, being perhaps the most widely read even to this day. His Histories catalog the Roman period after Nero’s demise and into the Flavian period. Tacitus originally intended to write all the way from Nero to Trajan, but quit the project after he reached the death of Domitian. Tacitus then backtracked to the reign of Augustus in Annals and continued that project to the beginning point of Histories. Tacitus exemplifies in these works the framework of Roman decline, and he thus accentuates the corruption and depravity of Rome to make those he portrays as patriots shine all the brighter as examples to follow. His Agricola is a biography of his father-in-law, particularly concerned with his conquest of Britain.
The work of Florus (mostly likely Lucius Annaeus Florus [ca. 74 CE–130 CE] in this case) is largely reliant on Livy’s work as he proceeds from the foundation of Rome to Augustus closing the temple of Janus in 25 BCE. Since it is largely reliant on another work, not much else needs to be said about it, except for two other factors. One, he also exemplifies the framework of Roman decline that is not clearly part of Livy’s work. Two, it seems that he intended to bring his history nearer to his time, but what is extant ends on a nevertheless significant event in the time of Augustus.
Suetonius (69 CE–post-122 CE) provides an invaluable resource to the classical and biblical scholar alike in his intimate history of the Roman emperors from Julius Caesar to Domitian. He generally follows a formula of describing their appearances, omens associated with them, family history (there was no biological succession among the Caesars until Titus succeeded Vespasian, and there would rarely ever be any others), quotes, and a history of the individual. It is essentially an ancient “lifestyles of the rich and famous” kind of work. Suetonius’s account of Nero’s death is notably famous, in which we get the famous phrase, “Nero fiddled while Rome burned.”
NT Correlations
Scholars have often noted that the Gospels-and-Acts complex presents the most correlations to Greco-Roman history and biography. Richard Burridge established the present majority position on the genre of the Gospels through comparison with ancient Greek and Roman biographies, including Suetonius’s Lives and Tacitus’s Agricola.3 Craig Keener’s recent work has upheld this genre identification and also compared Acts to Greek and Roman historiography.4 Scott Shauf has also written an important study on themes of divine action in Acts and ancient historiography, including Livy and Tacitus.5 I refer the reader to these works for more detailed information. For my purposes, two broad types of correlation are worth noting: 1) historiographical methods and 2) socio-political topics.
In terms of historiographical methods, both bodies of literature appeal to other historical sources, especially eyewitness testimony when available.6 Historians and biographers could regularly expand or abridge their sources as they saw fit, a sense which usually came from the larger purpose of the work but may also be due to considerations of the text’s audience or preferences of the author (stylistic or otherwise). Because of widespread interest in, and influence of, rhetoric, ancient historians presented their narratives in rhetorical fashion. The rhetorical presentation ultimately served larger rhetorical purposes of the work, but it also enhanced the oral performance of reading the text and made the story told more easily memorable. Rhetorical shaping and presentation are especially prominent in the frequent use of speeches in both Greek and Roman history, as speeches would function as characterization and as evidence to support the larger rhetorical purposes of the text. In biographies of sages and political figures, speeches would also be the means of preserving their teachings or conveying their philosophies. Still, one should remember that the Gospels and Acts are in contrast to the works of the elite historians, since their audiences were not primarily composed of elites, their authors were not necessarily elites, and thus they were not driven by rhetorical concerns in the same way or to the same extent as the elite historians and biographers noted here. With these points in mind, it seems that the NT authors were intent on correlating with ancient historiography and biography, but putting their tools at the service of a different purpose.
In terms of socio-political topics, there are many more correlations between these two bodies of literature. First, both the Gospels-and-Acts complex and Roman histories/biographies link their stories to a more historically well-established ancient narrative of a nation. For the Roman literature, this narrative is the history of Troy and the journey of its survivors to Italy. For the Gospels and Acts, this narrative is the history of Israel. Both complexes establish this link by genealogy, prophecies, symbolic acts, and regular allusions to those histories.
Second, both bodies of literature express their beliefs in the involvement of the gods/God in the shared history to which the individual texts testify. For Roman literature, this meant occasional reference to providence for events in more recent history or to the activities of (chiefly) Jupiter, the guardian of the city. On rare occasions, there were even references to miracles, as with Vespasian’s actions as told by Tacitus (Hist. 4.81), although the tone of such accounts is not necessarily similar to those in the Gospels and Acts. The number and variety of miracles attributed to Jesus and (to a lesser extent) the evangelists of Acts are nowhere equaled by figures in Roman literature. The functions of miracles in Roman literature are also not as concerned with establishing continuity with an earlier era, as the Gospels are with the continuity between Jesus and the actions of God in the OT or Acts is with the continuity between the miracles of the Early Church and Jesus. Nor are any of the Roman biographers or historians as thoroughly concerned with expressing the actions and authorizations of the gods throughout their works as the Gospel authors are in their accounts of Jesus and his earliest followers.
Third, both complexes contain motifs of devotion to their subjects, although this motif is not as pervasive in Roman literature as in the Gospels and Acts. One especially prominent example from Roman literature is book 5 of Curtius’s Alexander, which focuses on the problems raised by Alexander’s acceptance/encouragement of the practice of προσκύνησις. A similar motif is especially prominent in Matthew, as the verb προσκυνέω appears thirteen times (2:2, 8, 11; 4:9–10; 8:2; 9:18; 14:33; 15:25; 18:26; 20:20; 28:9, 17), more often than all the other Gospels.7 Jesus is the recipient of this action in every case except for the temptation narrative, where Jesus refuses to perform this action to Satan and says only God should receive it. For Matthew and his audience, this gesture is clearly appropriate as an act of worship to Jesus, even if the original actors may not have realized they were worshiping him. Notably, Peter refuses this gesture in Acts 10:25–26 because he is a man like Cornelius, who had tried to perform this action (cf. Rev 19:10; 22:8–9).
Fourth, although this correlation is implicit, there is arguably a negative correlation of the kingdom of God—an emphasis that is unique in the Gospels with their records of Jesus’s preaching and teaching—with the empire of Rome and the gods that protect it. The most obvious contrast between them is the difference between the gods of Rome who establish its kingdom and the God of Israel who is the Father of Jesus. Both the gods and God are devoted to particular peoples, but the gods express this devotion in protection of a city while God expresses devotion in a particular person, his death, resurrection, ascension, and fulfillment of promises to a people. Another contrast is the fact that the empire of the Roman gods expands by war while the implementation of the kingdom of God expands on earth through the action of Jesus and the proclamation of the evangelists. Indeed, while the empire sometimes requires the death of enemies to expand (or at least the threat of such), the kingdom of God is embodied in faithfulness unto death through perseverance and occasional martyrdom.
Fifth, both sets of historical works also describe post-death realities. For the Roman histories and biographies, this generally involved apotheosis of emperors, particularly in terms of the earthly decree of consecratio by the Senate. For the Gospels and Acts, this description concerned the resurrection and ascension of Jesus (in references to his empty tomb, his post-resurrection appearances, and in evangelistic proclamations). Although both stories involve ascensions to the heavens, the bodily nature of the fates supplies a sharp distinction between them.8 Apotheosis for the emperors involved their souls ascending while the fate of their entombed remains was unclear. In any case, they would receive new bodies after their translation into the heavens. Jesus’s ascension only occurs after the resurrection and every Gospel attests to Jesus’s empty tomb, meaning that Jesus’s ascension was clearly bodily in a way that imperial apotheosis was not. However, the connection between Jesus’s ascension and exaltation to the right hand of God is conceptually similar to the fact that the translation of the emperors was necessary for their deification.9
Pliny the Elder’s Natural History requires its own separate comment. It is not a history in the same fashion as many of the others. Its value for NT studies is more in what it says about the various locations mentioned in the NT or the contexts to which the authors wrote. In fact, it has been used for precisely that purpose for a long time.
Suggestions for Further Research
More work remains to be done in the area of correlating (positively and negatively) the genres of Greco-Roman biography and history with the Gospels and Acts. If one accepts the genre correlation, one still must demonstrate how the genre characteristics operate at the level of specific texts. Specifically, a more detailed and more targeted examination of methods and sources of the two bodies of literature (perhaps of one Roman history or biography to one of the Gospels) would be helpful.
We have mentioned a correlation between Matthew and Curtius’s Alexander on the matter of devotion to the subject. One could further pursue research in this area through a variety of other comparisons. Although the entire NT is in agreement that Jesus is worthy of devotion (expressed in “cultic” action and otherwise), the language they used to refer to this devotion varies from source to source and thus the different terms have different interfaces with Roman sources. Conversely, this further study is warranted by the fact that not all Roman historians/biographers agree on the subject of devotion to leaders/superiors. This in turn illustrates the complexities of socio-political discourse in this era that one must keep in mind. Not only does the NT correlate with the Roman authors both positively and negatively, but even the Roman authors make complex and contradictory contributions to the discourse. Hence, a full-orbed understanding of the NT’s interaction with Roman socio-political discourse must involve understanding how each individual source contributes to that discourse.
One final matter to research that extends beyond this genre to virtually all genres identified here is how Roman texts, the NT texts, and contemporary Jewish texts interact with the foundational stories that root their respective bodies of literature in an ancient narrative. Both the Roman authors and the NT authors trace their worldview narratives to origins in the ancient past (to Troy in the former and to Israel in the latter) and through key developments to the present, although the NT authors generally assume the developments in Israel’s history prior to Jesus. One major aspect of the NT approach to its ancient history that sets it apart from Roman literature is the fact that there is a regular expression of hope for still-future salvific events. In other words, while both bodies of literature place themselves within an ongoing story, the NT is different from Roman literature in that its narrative is still waiting for a denouement of God fulfilling all promises, while Roman literature, where it has a sense of eschatology, does not have an eschatological vision of expectations extending well beyond the present. No single book could cover the immensity of the task involved in this comparative research, but any contributions could prove to be invaluable resources for both biblical studies and classical studies in their attempts to understand and articulate the worldviews of these bodies of literature.
Marcus Porcius Cato, Les Origines (Fragments), ed. and trans. Martine Chassignet (Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1986).
Another lost source from early Latin history that indicates the importance of the link to Troy is Varro Reatinus’s (116 BCE–27 BCE) On the Families of Troy.
Burridge originally made this argument almost thirty years ago (What Are the Gospels? A Comparison with Graeco-Roman Biography, SNTSMS 70 [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992]). He recently published a new edition in which he engages with continuing debates about the genre as well as the question of the genre of Acts (What Are the Gospels? A Comparison with Graeco-Roman Biography, 3rd ed. [Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2018]).
Craig S. Keener, Acts, 4 vols. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2012–2015); idem, Christobiography: Memory, History, and the Reliability of the Gospels (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2019). Also note Craig S. Keener and Edward T. Wright, eds., Biographies and Jesus: What Does It Mean for the Gospels to be Biographies? (Lexington, KY: Emeth, 2016).
Scott Shauf, The Divine in Acts and in Ancient Historiography (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015).
Richard Bauckham, Jesus and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony (Grand Rapids; Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2006), 21–38, 114–47.
Mark only uses it twice, once in reference to a mocking gesture. Luke uses it three times, twice in the temptation narrative and once in a post-resurrection scene. John uses it eleven times, but nine of these appear in one dialogue about worship with the Samaritan woman in ch. 4.
Only Luke-Acts directly references the ascension after resurrection, although John 20:17 indicates that it will happen. Still, all the Gospels imply it by the lack of Jesus’s physical presence on earth (as well as by predictions such as Jesus’s statement that the rulers of the Jews would see him at the right hand of God).
For more on this subject, see John Granger Cook, Empty Tomb, Resurrection, Apotheosis, WUNT 410 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2018).