An Interview with Bruce Longenecker

JK: With the notable exception of Gerd Theissen's "The Shadow of the Galilean," biblical scholars have not had a great track record of what I'd call "reliable fiction." How did you first come to the notion of creating a "historical fiction" in order to give readers a glimpse of the New Testament world?
BL: For a long time now I have been convinced of the power of narrative as an instructional tool. Look at the way in which a movie or a novel tries to reconstruct a situation that the audience or readers are invited to explore with their imaginations, understandings and emotions. This is probably why Jesus told narrative parables to those around him, challenging their perceptions of the world through stories that allowed them to see things from a new perspective. So narrative is strongly didactic and informative, as well as being an easily accessible and creative genre. Consequently, a historical fiction of the first-century world is perfectly suited to allow readers a glimpse of the New Testament world and, even more, to "experience" it, even in a secondhand fashion through their imaginations. In this way, historical fiction can sometimes be helpful in a way that an academic textbook or a monograph on the first-century world may not be. It also has the potential, as did Jesus' parables, to inspire certain patterns of life and behavior in a way that other genres don't have.

JK: Why did you choose Antipas of Pergamum to be the main character of your story?
BL: The figure of Antipas in Revelation 2:13 has intrigued me for many years. Since the name is very rare in the ancient world, I wondered whether there was any significance in the name of this Christian who died as a martyr for Christ in Pergamum in the late first century. One of the few men named Antipas in the ancient world was Herod Antipas, the tetrarch of Galilee during the time of Jesus. He was strongly supportive of Roman rule and all that Rome stood for. If we are permitted to speculate that the Antipas of Revelation 2 might have been named after Herod Antipas, then a fascinating situation emerges. One who had been named after a pro-Roman figure later became a martyr for Christ in pro-Roman Pergamum, where Christians were expected to participate in the city's worship of the Roman emperor. The change in allegiance from Rome to Christ is itself an intriguing narrative prospect. I simply used my imagination to fill in the blanks of Antipas's envisaged transformation.

JK: Why did you choose Luke to be Antipas's correspondent and guide to Christianity?
BL: I particularly liked Luke in this role for several reasons. First, Luke was both a very good historian of the early Christian movement and a significant theologian. It seemed right that he could act as a reliable guide to Christianity's history and the theological significance of that history. Second, Luke does more than the other canonical gospel writers to highlight the social, economic, political, and religious realities of Jesus' day. So his keen sense of cultural interpretation and critique was just what the book required. Third, I liked the idea of having Antipas discuss Luke's own narrative with Luke himself. Much of the book involves an early exercise in what scholars call "reader response" interpretation. That is, Antipas interprets Luke's Gospel in a way that is predetermined by Antipas's own situation in life. The change in Antipas takes place, however, when this predetermined reading is short-circuited. That results from Antipas's increasing involvement in the life of a Christian community in which "bearing each others' burdens" is the hallmark of its corporate life. In that context, Antipas's reading of Luke's Gospel undergoes a dramatic shift, and his awareness of the significance of Jesus Christ for his own life becomes acute. But here I have strayed a bit from your question.

JK: After the book was well underway, your recent research on gladiatorial contests led you to integrate such contests into the story line. Tell us how that happened for you and why you felt the addition was important.
BL: The tradition about Antipas's gruesome death (which I won't reveal here; its included in the book) doesn't specify the context in which his death occurred, but the more I considered the matter, the more I envisaged it occurring in the context of a gladiatorial game. The manner of his execution coincides with that suspicion quite well. So whereas early on in the writing of the narrative the context of his death was unclear to me, later on it became clear. So I then incorporated the gladiatorial contests. This had the added benefit of introducing the reader's imagination to the harsh realities of the Greco-Roman world. Moreover, great power was wielded by the regional and civic elite of that world, and gladiatorial contests went hand in hand with maintaining that power. Therefore, since the book is ultimately about the power of certain figures and allegiance to them (i.e., Jesus or the emperor), gladiatorial contests were a natural phenomenon to include.

JK: There's a subtlety to the "Lost Letters" that I think readers will find refreshing. You give readers a feel for what Christian gatherings, "conversions," readings of Scripture, etc. were like in the days when the Christian tradition was measured in years, not centuries. How were you able to create believable scenarios without becoming too didactic?
BL: In general, when creating a narrative situation, I was always on the lookout for ways to bring the informative, didactic aspect of the project into the situation. There is, of course, much more historical background material that I could have incorporated into the narrative, but I tried to incorporate only what the narrative situation allowed, leaving out the rest. So I didn't know what historical material I would include at any given point until the narrative situation was clearly in view. At that point I would see whether any historical material could be included without artificially disrupting the narrative flow. This procedure also meant that I focused on certain events far more than I might otherwise have done. For instance, Nero's accusation that the Christians were responsible for burning Rome came to take on more significance in the narrative than I would have imagined prior to writing. To a large extent, then, the narrative contours were the determining factor regarding the inclusion of informative historical material.

JK: Your book will draw some comparisons to Gerd Theissen's The Shadow of the Galilean, which has been successful probably due to both its creativity and it quality. The early response from readers suggests that you've also crafted a creative and well-written book. What steps did you take along the way to ensure that the book was "working"?
BL: I'm not sure I did take many steps of this sort along the way. Just prior to submitting it for publication I showed it to a few people for their feedback. To you, Jim, for quality control; to my friend Paul Trebilco for issues of "historical veracity," since he is a biblical scholar who has expertise in Asia Minor, where the narrative takes place; and to my wife, Fiona Bond, and parents-in-law, Richard and Delia Bond, for issues of "readability." Up until that point, however, I didn't reveal too much of the story line to other people. I simply played the storyline out in my mind over and over, trying any number of narrative angles for each situation and then deciding which one worked best. I don't remember seeking anyone's advice regarding how this episode or that episode might be played out because I was afraid that I might get sidetracked from my own interests in the narrative. For instance, I remember being adamant that Antipas should not have some "Damascus Road" conversion but that his martyrdom for Christ should emerge as the next step in a natural and ongoing process that had already been set in motion. I hope that aspect of it worked well. And in one or two places, I found that I myself was deeply moved by what was appearing on the computer screen in front of me; it was as if the story was "authoring" itself. When that happened, I knew that the story had a power of its own. It does for me anyway.

JK: We've seen interest in the "Lost Letters" from a wide range of people, from general readers to professors. Who was the "ideal reader" you had in mind when you wrote the book?
BL: The "ideal reader" will include a broad range of actual readers (Christian and non-Christian, academic and nonacademic), but the common denominator among them will be an interest in better understanding Jesus and his followers within the larger Jewish and Greco-Roman contexts of their day. A lot of new work has been done on these matters in recent years, and I hope that I have been able to include much of this reliably into an accessible narrative context for the benefit of all readers.

Reused with permission, courtesy of STL

Review: Lost Letters of Pergamum