It is generally accepted by scholars that the New Testament is in part imitative in nature (see The Jewish Annotated New Testament, for instance).  This reflects the practice of mimesis from the Greeks (as Dennis MacDonald and Robyn Faith Walsh show, the New Testament being written in Greek), and Haggadic Midrash for the Hebrew tradition.  For example, Dennis MacDonald makes a compelling case that the earliest stratum of the Gospel of John imitates Euripides’s “Bacchae.”  And so for instance regarding the Jewish tradition, Mark constructs his crucifixion narrative by rewriting Psalm 22 and Isaiah 53, Matthew adds recapitulating the Wisdom of Solomon, and Matthew constructs Jesus’s portrait by framing him as the new and greater Moses.   

Why were the writers doing this?  We do the same thing today when we say someone is the same as or greater than a famous figure in history.  Here are 2 examples along the lines of the recent election propaganda I created:

We see, for instance, the writers of the Dead Sea Scrolls contributing to the biography of the Teacher of Righteousness by viewing him through the lens of scripture.  And, as to the contemporaries of Jesus and such mythmaking, Young notes:

Jewish sources beyond Paul’s Letters likewise feature self-authorized mythmakers. To offer a few examples: in his Jewish Antiquities, Josephus writes of “a certain imposter” (goēs tis) who “persuaded the majority of the masses to take up their possessions and to follow him to the Jordan River. He stated that he was a prophet and that at his command the river would be parted and would provide them an easy passage” (A.J. 20.97 [Feldman, LCL]). We lack further evidence for Theudas beyond this passage in a hostile source. It is plausible to speculate that his claims about parting the Jordan drew on Jewish mythological lore relating both to the exodus and the entry into the promised land through the Jordan River (Josh 3–4), which itself is a reuse of exodus myths. In this way Theudas adapts the exodus and promised-land-entry myths in ways that further resonate with mythology about a divine warrior with control over the sea and waters who may share that authority with his human agent. Similarly with the so-called Egyptian, according to Josephus’s discussion in his Jewish Antiquities, he called himself a prophet and led his followers to the Mount of Olives outside Jerusalem, where he claimed that at his command the city’s walls would fall (A.J. 20.168–172; the account of the Egyptian in B.J. 2.259–263 lacks the material about Jerusalem’s walls). The impression is an eschatological reuse of Israelite conquest mythology… [Also] As Robyn Walsh emphasizes, the writers of New Testament Gospels were literate men who wrote within Greco-Roman literary cultures wherein knowledge of Homer and other foundational texts in educational practices (e.g., Hesiod, Euripides) were basic in the literate repertoire. It is thus unsurprising that interpreters elucidate all manner of reuses, resonances, competitive allusions, and engagements with Homeric and other Greco-Roman myths in the gospels. Young, Stephen. Myth and Mythmaking in Crossley, James; Keith, Chris. The Next Quest for the Historical Jesus (pp. 272-297). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition (2024)

This type of writing is obviously problematic for someone trying to do history.  If I have a drawing like the one above of Donald Trump as a founding father, does this reflect what he was actually like?  Such propaganda may be reflective of how some of his followers saw him, or negative propaganda art may have shown how his opponents saw him, but it’s a hard place to try to do history. And Mark proudly asserts this, calling his writing a gospel, which as Helms notes appropriates a term from Augustan propaganda material, is meant to show Jesus is the new and greater Augustus.

Rober M Price proposes 2 examples of such imitative writing which are highly provocative and very appropriate for this time of year: The birth stories in Matthew and Luke.  It is generally assumed the miraculous birth story was unknown by Mark, as it seems absurd he would omit it if he knew about it.  What is particularly striking is not only the imitative accounts may have been invented by Matthew and Luke (in antiquity miraculous birth stories were sometimes invented for famous figures whose origin is otherwise unknown), Matthew’s account may be imitating Josephus, and Luke’s story may be imitating Psuedo-Philo, which would push the dating of these gospels back into the 2^nd century.  Price writes for Matthew:

   C. The Gospel of Matthew

1. The Nativity of Jesus

On the whole Matthew seems to have borrowed the birth story of Jesus from Josephus’ retelling of the nativity of Moses. Whereas Exodus had Pharaoh institute the systematic murder of Hebrew infants simply to prevent a strong Hebrew fifth column in case of future invasion, Josephus makes the planned pogrom a weapon aimed right at Moses, who in Josephus becomes a promised messiah in his own right. Amram and Jochabed, expecting baby Moses, are alarmed. What should they do? Abort the pregnancy? God speaks in a dream to reassure them. “One of those sacred scribes, who are very sagacious in foretelling future events truly, told the king that about this time there would a child be borne to the Israelites, who, if he were reared, would bring the Egyptian dominion low, and would raise the Israelites; that he would excel all men in virtue, and obtain a glory that would be remembered through the ages. Which was so feared by the king that, according to this man’s opinion, he commanded that they should cast every male child into the river, and destroy it… A man, whose name was Amram, … was very uneasy at it, his wife being then with child, and he knew not what to do… Accordingly God had mercy on him, and was moved by his supplication. He stood by him in his sleep, and exhorted him not to despair of his future favours… ‘For that child, out of dread for whose nativity the Egyptians have doomed the Israelites’ children to destruction, shall be this child of thine… he shall deliver the Hebrew nation from the distress they are under from the Egyptians. His memory shall be famous whole the world lasts.’” (Antiquities, II, IX, 2-3)

            It is evident that Matthew has had merely to change a few names. Herod the Great takes the role of the baby-killing Pharaoh, and he is warned by his own scribes (along with the Magi) of the impending birth of a savior, whereupon he resolves to kill every child he has to in order to eliminate the child of promise. Joseph takes the place of Amram, though the precise cause of his unease is different. Mary takes the place of Jochabed. A dream from God steels Joseph, like Amram, in his resolve to go through with things.

            The rest of Matthew’s birth story is woven from a series of formulaic scripture quotations. He makes Isaiah 7:14 LXX refer to the miraculous virginal conception of Jesus. It is likely that he has in this case found a scripture passage to provide a pedigree for a widespread hagiographical mytheme, the divine paternity of the hero, which had already passed into the Christian tradition, unless of course this is the very door through which it passed.

            It is revealing that Matthew’s Magi learn from scribal exegesis of Micah 5:2 that the messiah must be born in Bethlehem. This is the same way Matthew “knew” Jesus was born there–it had to be!

            The flight of the Holy Family into Egypt comes equally from exegesis, this time of Hosea 11:1, which allows Matthew to draw a parallel between his character Joseph and the Genesis patriarch Joseph, who also went to Egypt. Matthew also seems here to want to foreshadow the death and resurrection of Jesus. Note that Isaiah 52:9-10 makes the exodus from Egypt into a historical replay of God’s primordial victory over the sea dragon Rahab, equating Egypt with Rahab. Matthew also knew that Jonah was swallowed by a sea monster at God’s behest, and he saw this as a prefiguration of Jesus’ descent into the tomb (Matthew 12:40). The flight into Egypt has the child Jesus already going down into Rahab, the belly of the sea beast.

            The closest Matthew can come, via punning exegesis, to providing a prooftext for Jesus having become known as “the Nazarene” would seem to be Judges 13:7, “The boy shall be a Nazirite to God from birth.” He knew Jesus must be born in Bethlehem yet was called “Jesus of Nazareth,” so he cobbled together a story whereby Jesus was born in Mary and Joseph’s home in Bethlehem, only to relocate in Nazareth (after Egypt) to avoid the wrath of Archelaus (Matthew 2:22-23). Luke, on the other hand, working with the same two assumptions, contrived to have Mary and Joseph live in Nazareth but to be in Bethlehem for the census when the time came for Jesus to be born. In both cases, exegesis has produced narrative.

**************************************And Price on Luke: *********************

D. The Gospel of Luke

1. The Nativities of Jesus and John (1:1-2:52)

The fundamental source of Luke’s double nativity story is the nativity of Samuel. Eli becomes Simeon (and perhaps also Zachariah), while barren Hannah becomes old Elizabeth (and Mary, too, if we accept the majority of manuscripts’ attribution of the Magnificat to her instead of Elizabeth, 1:46-55). The Magnificat is clearly a paraphrase of Hannah’s song in 1 Samuel 1-10. The repeated refrain of Jesus’ continuing growth in wisdom and favor with God and men (2:40, 52, cf., 1:80) comes directly from 1 Samuel 2:26, “Now the boy Samuel continued to grow both in stature and in favor with the LORD and with men.”

            The birth annunciation to Mary recalls those of Isaac (Genesis 17:19, “Sarah your wife shall bear you a son, and you shall call his name…”; 18:9-15) and Samson (Judges 13:2-5, “you shall conceive and bear a son… and he shall begin to deliver Israel…”). The story also borrows from the commissioning stories of Moses (Exodus 3:10-12) and Jeremiah (Jeremiah 1:4-8), where the servant of God objects to the divine summons and his objection is overruled (see Luke 1:18, 34).

            A less familiar source for the Lukan nativity story is the nativity of Moses as told in Pseudo-Philo’s Biblical Antiquities, where we read that, during Pharaoh’s persecution of the Hebrew babies, Amram has determined to defy Pharaoh by having a son. God makes known his will by sending an angel to the virgin Miriam. “And the Spirit of God came upon Miriam one night, and she saw a dream and told it to her parents in the morning, saying, ‘I have seen this night, and behold a man in a linen garment stood and said to me, “Go, and say to your parents, ‘Behold, he who will be born from you will be cast forth into the water; likewise through him the water will be dried up. And I will work signs through him and save my people, and he will exercise leadership always’”’” (9:10).

            The angel Gabriel’s predictions in Luke 1:32-33, 35 derive from an Aramaic version of Daniel: “[And when the Spirit] came to rest up[on] him, he fell before the throne. [Then Daniel rose and said,] ‘O king, why are you angry; why do you [grind] your teeth? [The G]reat [God] has revealed to you [that which is to come.] … [Peoples will make war,] and battles shall multiply among the nations, until [the king of the people of God arises… [All the peoples will serve him,] and he shall become gre[at] upon the earth… He will be called [son of the Gr]eat [God;] by his Name shall he be designated. He will be called the son of God. They will call him son of the Most High… His kingdom will be an eternal kingdom, and he will be righteous in all his ways” (4Q246, The Son of God).

            When Mary visits her cousin Elizabeth, the latter’s unborn child, John the Baptizer, leaps in the womb in greeting to acknowledge the greater glory of the unborn Jesus. Here, as G.R. Driver pointed out, Luke refers to Genesis 25:22 LXX, where Rebecca is in pain because her two rival sons strive within her as a sign of fraternal discord to come: “And the babes leaped within her.” This precedent Luke seeks to reverse by having the older cousin, John, already deferring in the womb to his younger cousin. Here he has an eye on the rival John the Baptist sect whom he thus tries to conciliate and coopt.

• Price, Robert M. New Testament Narrative as Old Testament Midrash: https://www.robertmprice.mindvendor.com/art_midrash1.htm

In Catholic thought Mary is seen as the new or second Eve because of her faith and obedience so that just as Eve is the mother of humanity in the genealogical sense, Mary is mother of all people spiritually, since just as Jesus entered into her womb, Jesus enters into us as what Paul calls “Christ in you” who aides humans in their spiritual battle with Satan. Our faith and obedience allow us to receive Christ, just as Mary’s allowed her to serve her role.

If Price is right about the imitation going on, this pushes that date of these gospels even further away from the time of Jesus and the eye-witnesses.  It also raises the question of the relationship between Matthew and Luke.  For one example the genealogies I discussed last time seem part  of a common source (did Matthew and Luke just happen to invent miraculous birth stories and genealogies though none existed prior?), though are making two very different theological points that speak against commonality of source.:

 The two genealogies of Jesus in the New Testament are in the Gospel of Matthew and the Gospel of Luke, and as I noted last time they differ in several ways: 

• Direction: Matthew’s genealogy starts with Abraham and works forward, while Luke’s starts with Jesus and works backward to Adam. 
• Focus: Matthew’s genealogy emphasizes Jesus’ royal lineage, while Luke’s emphasizes Jesus’ common humanity. 
• Genealogy line: Matthew’s genealogy follows the line of David’s son Solomon, while Luke’s follows the line of Nathan, another son of David. 
• Starting point: Matthew starts with Abraham, while Luke starts with Adam. 
• Number of generations: Matthew has 27 generations from David to Joseph, while Luke has 42. 
• Organization: Matthew’s genealogy is organized in a 14/14/14 scheme, while Luke’s may be organized in an 11×7 scheme. 
• Location: Matthew’s genealogy appears at the beginning of the Gospel of Matthew, while Luke’s appears after Jesus’ baptism in the Gospel of Luke. 

These differences reflect the different goals of the two evangelists. For example, Matthew emphasizes the linkage between Abraham, David, and Jesus, while Luke emphasizes Jesus common humanity through Adam.

This is a real interpretive puzzle.  The two genealogies seem to be too divergent to come from the Q source (the material common to Matthew and Luke that didn’t come from Mark). What we may have here is evidence of Luke responding to Matthew, and so perhaps there was a Q source in Matthew (since it differs from Matthew’s form and content) and Luke was also engaging with Matthew.

We see similar difficulties when dating Mark.  Mark is generally understood to be the first gospel, even though it appears second in the bible.  Mark is written in a poorer Greek than Matthew, so it seems unlikely Mark was copying Matthew.  On the other hand, some point to the conceptual richness and intertextuality of Mark to make the point Mark was a much more sophisticated writer than his Greek suggests.  It may be Mark was “dumbing down” Matthew for the common folk and thought his style was more in line with the commonness of the Koine Greek of his bible, the Septuagint.  Mark Twain wrote in such a way presenting sophisticated concepts in a common way for Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.  One major red flag is scholars are increasingly recognizing Mark used Paul’s letters, which seems at odds with Luke writing about Paul and being scrupulous about his sources yet does not seem to have access to Paul’s letters (since Luke so often contradicts Paul’s letters), as though the letters were not readily available.  Perhaps Mark was later and following Paul’s dictum to “know nothing among you but Christ and him crucified,” apocalyptic urgency by Mark thus needing to abridge Matthew. This is just speculation for the sake of argument, but there are genuine puzzles,

Mark’s gospel is usually put around 70CE, for reasons like the eschatological discourse in Mark 13, which scholars interpret as pointing to the First Jewish–Roman War (66–74 AD)—a war that led to the destruction of the Second Temple in AD 70.  This may be right, though it may be wishful thinking because all that establishes is the war already happened (though some think Jesus predicted the destruction of the temple), not how distant in the past it was. As Walsh points out Mark also seems to be influenced by the Satyrica (a late 1^st century text), or influencing the Satyrica.  Paul said if not for the resurrection your faith is in vain and you are still in your sin.  Mark seems to be responding to this, as all the synoptic authors do, with the scene of Jesus on the cross converting the soldier (no resurrection needed), which seems to directly reference Cleomenes III on the cross, a tale popularized by Plutarch in his Parallel Lives published early in the second century.   

The body of the exiled Spartan king Cleomenes, slain by his treacherous Egyptian hosts (reminding us of the treacherous Jewish high council who the New Testament blame for Jesus’s unjust death), was hoisted onto a cross for his friends and enemies to see. Then, says Plutarch:

A few days afterwards those who were keeping watch upon the body of Cleomenes where it hung, saw a serpent of great size coiling itself about the head and hiding away the face so that no ravening bird of prey could light upon it. In consequence of this, the king was seized with superstitious fear, and thus gave the women occasion for various rites of purification, since they felt that a man had been taken off who was of a superior nature and beloved of the gods. And the Alexandrians actually worshipped him, coming frequently to the spot and addressing Cleomenes as a hero and a child of the gods …