Rhetorical Criticism and the Pauline Epistles

            There are two major divisions to make from the outset in discussing the use of rhetoric in criticism of the Pauline epistles.  One might consider the exegetical tool itself:  What is rhetorical criticism?  How is it done?  But one also needs to consider the appropriateness of using the tool:  Should we attempt rhetorical criticism of Paul’s epistles?  I will begin by cogitating on the first consideration, since the appropriate use of the tool can hardly be discussed before we have discerned what the tool is.

            Rhetorical criticism analyses the New Testament (hereafter, NT) documents in light of rhetorical theory.  It is often concerned with matters of form, style and function.  Modern[1] rhetorical criticism of the NT takes three primary forms.  Some approach the NT documents solely through ancient Greco-Roman rhetorical theory.  Others approach the NT documents through modern rhetorical theory.  And still others use an admixture of both.

            Scholars who utilise ancient Greco-Roman rhetorical theory rely mainly on the texts of Aristotle (Rhetoric), Cicero (On Invention and Partitions of Oratory), Quintilian (On the Education of the Orator), and an anonymous work called Rhetoric to Herennius.  Though other sources are used as well, these provide scholars with the material necessary for understanding ancient Greco-Roman rhetoric.  Aristotle’s Rhetoric was not, in itself, a ‘new contribution to research’.  Rather, it systematised all that had gone before it, and put it down in a new format.[2]    Cicero added nothing new to rhetorical theory.  He lay squarely within the traditions of Aristotle and Isocrates, and his contribution to first-century B.C. rhetoric was to point again to the bright light of the classical Greek rhetorical tradition.[3]  Quintilian was Rome’s greatest teacher of rhetoric.  George Kennedy has called book twelve of Quintilian’s Institutio Oratoria “the finest statement of ancient rhetorical theory.”[4]  Quintilian was unabashedly Ciceronian.[5]  The one major point upon which he deviated from mainstream rhetorical tradition was on his definition of rhetoric as the science of speaking well rather than the art of persuasion.  His definition was intended to shift the emphasis away from the audience to the orator himself.[6]  Litfin says, however, that in spite of trying hard to provide a moralistic approach to rhetoric, Quintilian frequently falls back on the actual effects of rhetoric; Quintilian still considered persuasion to be the goal of oratory.[7]

The most influential approach to rhetorical analysis through the use of modern rhetorical theories stems from a work by Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca called The New Rhetoric.  This approach, aptly called The New Rhetoric, derives its name from their work.  Making use of The New Rhetoric, Hansen lists five ‘rhetorical techniques’ to look for in Paul:  1) “argument by authority”; 2) “argument by definition”; 3) “argument by dissociation of ideas”; 4) “argument by the severance of the group and its members”; and 5) “argument by sacrifice”.[8]  The application of The New Rhetoric to ancient texts has been questioned, and it is definitely an area for further study.

            Scholars who attempt to use both modern and ancient theories often begin by analysing the text with modern methods, and then proceed to interpret what they have found in light of ancient theories.

            Before beginning further discussion of methodology, we must first briefly examine rhetorical theory itself.  Kennedy identifies the five divisions of rhetorical theory, which correspond to steps in the preparation and presentation of a speech:[9]  1) Invention, the process of defining the topic and deciding how it will be argued.  2) Arrangement, which concerns deciding how to organize the material.  3) Style, which has to do with word choice and sentence composition.  4) Memory—this is one’s preparation for delivery.  5) Delivery—this includes things such as voice inflexion and gestures.  Memory and delivery necessarily have very little to do with letters, so as a rule scholars tend to say nothing about them.  The hypothesis, held by many who make use of rhetorical criticism, that Paul’s letters were delivered orally to the various congregations certainly justifies an investigation into memory and delivery.  However, aside from stating the hypothesis that Paul’s letters were delivered orally, it does not seem practical to attempt further investigation into the manner in which those letters were delivered.

            Invention, arrangement and style, on the other hand, have received a great amount of attention by scholars.  There are two kinds of invention: ‘atechnic’ and ‘technic’.  The former are items included in the speech that the orator did not ‘create’ for himself.  These might include material evidence, witnesses, contracts and the like.[10]  Kennedy mentions three main types of  ‘atechnic’ invention found in the NT:[11]  1) citations from Scripture, 2) reference to miracles, and 3) witnesses.[12]  On the other hand, the orator creates ‘technic’ invention.   “…[T]hus, one must use the former and invent the latter.”[13] 

Aristotle divides invention that has to do with speech (things like witnesses and contracts are not ‘spoken’ by the orator) into three categories:  ethos, pathos, and logos.[14]  Ethos refers to the audience’s view of the orator.  It had to do with how the orator persuaded the audience to see the orator as a credible person.  “[There is persuasion] through character whenever the speech is spoken in such a way as to make the speaker worthy of credence…”[15]  Pathos, on the other hand, had to do with how the orator stirred the emotions of the audience, perhaps towards pity, or anger, or indignation.  “[There is persuasion] through the hearers when they are led to feel emotion [pathos] by the speech…”[16]  Aristotle mentions that most of his contemporary writers on rhetoric focus solely on pathos.[17]  “Persuasion occurs through the arguments [logoi] when we show the truth or the apparent truth from whatever is persuasive in each case.”[18] Logos, then, referred to the use of reason.

Logos could be of two types:  paradigmatic or enthymematic, also called induction and syllogism respectively: 

I call a rhetorical syllogism an enthymeme, a rhetorical induction a paradigm.  And all [speakers] produce logical persuasion by means of paradigms or enthymemes and by nothing other than these.    What the difference is between a paradigm and an enthymeme is clear from the Topics (for an account was given there earlier of syllogism and induction):  to show on the basis of many similar instances that something is so is in dialectic induction, in rhetoric paradigm; but to show that if some premises are true, something else [the conclusion] beyond them results from these because they are true, either universally or for the most part, in dialectic is called syllogism and in rhetoric enthymeme.    Speeches using paradigms are not less persuasive, but those with enthymemes excite more favorable audience reaction.[19]

The difference between a ‘dialectical syllogism’ and a ‘rhetorical enthymeme’ is only in how the syllogism is presented to the audience.  It had to be assumed that the audience would not be able to follow a very detailed speech.  Consequently, when syllogisms were used, it was necessary for the speaker to omit either the major or the minor premise.  The premise omitted was the one with which the audience would most likely agree.[20]  A paradigm was simply an example.  The speaker might present an historical event or a person as an example to be imitated or rejected. 

            The second step in speech composition was arrangement, the stage at which the orator would decide how to organise the contents of the speech into a unified whole.  Aristotle defined three basic genres of speeches in accordance with the classes into which an audience may fall.  That is, his definition is not based on the content of the speech, but on the position in which the speech puts the audience: 

The species [eidē] of rhetoric are three in number; for such is the number [of classes] to which the hearers of speeches belong.  A speech [situation] consists of three things: a speaker and a subject on which he speaks and someone addressed, and the objective [telos] of the speech relates to the last (I mean the hearer).    Thus, there would necessarily be three genera of rhetorics; symbouleutikon [‘deliberative’], dikanikon [‘judicial’], epideiktikon [‘demonstrative’].[21]

Forensic speech was used when the audience was acting as a judge of things that occurred in the past. [22]  It is what has been called ‘court-room’ speech, and may be either accusatory or defensive.  Deliberative speech was used when the audience was considering a course of action to take in the future.  Its subject might be whether or not to go to war with another city, or whether to add a narthex to the Parthenon.  Thus, it may be either protreptic (exhortatory) or apotreptic (dissuasive).  Aristotle conceived of epideictic speech as speech in which someone, some quality, or some thing was praised or blamed.  But in practice, epideictic speech came to be a sort of catch-all category.

Each of these species of speech, as they are called, tended to follow a distinguishing outline; though this was by no means always the case.  The outlines were very flexible, because the type of speech was a matter of the audience’s position, not of the speech’s outline.  Social situation was more important than form.  The same is true of epistolary format.  This is a point not to be ignored, because many modern exegetes make the mistake of attempting to analyse the form of a Pauline epistle in order to classify it as species ‘x’.  But this is a misunderstanding of the essential nature of speeches as defined by the social situation.  In giving these categories of speech, Aristotle was not attempting to classify speeches by form, but by the social context in which they occurred.  The form often followed a pattern, but the form was less important than the social context of the audience, and could, therefore, be abandoned or altered according to necessity.

Forensic rhetoric had the fullest, most well defined structure, but deliberative and epideictic had a usual structure as well.[23]  In order of occurrence, the parts of a forensic oration were:  the proem (or exordium), which  “…seeks to obtain the attention of the audience and goodwill or sympathy toward the speaker.”[24]  This was followed by a brief narration (narratio) of the pertinent facts of the case and any important background information.  The speech then proceeded to the propositio in which the speaker stated what he would demonstrate in the speech.  The propositio was then divided into various ‘headings’ in a section called the partitio, and was followed by a proof (arguments in favour of the propositio) and a refutation (arguments against opposing views).  “…[A] relevant examination of motivations or attendant circumstances,”[25] called a digression, would come next.  And the entire speech would close with a peroratio (epilogue), which “…summarizes the argument and seeks to arouse the emotions of the audience to take action or make judgment.”[26]

Deliberative and epideictic speeches followed a simplified pattern of the forensic speech.  In the deliberative speech, the narratio might follow the propositio instead of precede it, if it was present at all.  The general order was:  proem, proposition, narration, proof, kephalaion (“…a series of headings, treating the various material topics”[27]), and peroratio.  Epideictic speeches were even simpler.  They were composed of a proem and a peroratio with “…an orderly sequence of amplified topics dealing with the life of the person being celebrated or with the qualities of the concept under consideration…”[28] inserted in between.

            Style was the point in speech composition in which the orator chose the precise words he would use (lexis) and the manner in which he would assemble them into phrases, clauses and sentences (syntasis).  This area involved choosing figures of thought and figures of speech.  Lexis includes the use of devices (tropes) such as metaphor, synecdoche (a part for the whole), metonymy (a proper noun used in place of a common noun), hyperbole and catachresis (= abusio, the deliberate misuse of a word).[29]  Lexis also refers to choosing individual words. 

The most precise term in common usage is said to be the ‘proper’ word in any context, but to create varying effects the author may prefer archaic or rare words, or make use of foreign words, or occasionally may coin new words…[30]

Synthesis, on the other hand, includes the use of figures of speech and figures of thought.  Figures of speech manipulate sounds and word order.[31]  “A figure of thought is an unexpected change in syntax or an arrangement of the ideas, as opposed to the words, within a sentence, which calls attention to itself.”[32]  Examples of figures of thought include antithesis (eg., Matt 5.43-44), rhetorical questions, apostrophe and climax (eg., Rom 5.3-4).[33]

            Modern rhetorical critics of the NT have tended to focus almost exclusively on arrangement, to the neglect of many elements of style and invention.  It is ironic that invention was the aspect of speech preparation to which the most space is dedicated in the ancient rhetorical handbooks.

Current rhetorical criticism that relies on ancient theories of rhetoric is deeply indebted to George Kennedy for its methodology.  Kennedy was the first to offer a basic methodological outline.  He proposed that the critic take six steps in his or her analysis:[34]

  1. Determine the rhetorical unit to be analysed (= pericope).  Looking for inclusio is often a good way of finding a rhetorical unit.  The unit must have a discernable beginning and ending with something in between.  A speech, such as in Acts, is easy to identify as a rhetorical unit.  Units may be contained within larger units.  Kennedy says that five to six verses is about the shortest a rhetorical unit may be; they are usually longer.
  2. Assess the rhetorical situation of the unit.  That is, analyse the historical context in which the unit was composed:  by whom, to whom, when, where, for what reason, what will the audience expect to hear, what prompted the author to write this response in the first place (the unit is conceived of as a response to a certain situation).
  3. Examine the unit under the lenses of stasis theory.  Stasis is the basic theme of the speech—Kennedy warns that this is too complex for the novice even to attempt.
  4. Determine the species of the unit (judicial, deliberative or epideictic).
  5. Study the arrangement of material and uses of style. 
  6. Look back over the entire unit and try to take it all in as a whole.

            Now that we have discussed ancient rhetorical theory, we are free to move on to the more important question of application:  Should one use rhetorical theory as an exegetical tool for interpreting Paul’s letters at all?  The issue centres mainly on the question of whether Paul can reasonably be thought to have known anything about Greco-Roman rhetorical tradition, and the question of whether Greco-Roman rhetorical theory can really have broader application than just to Greco-Roman speeches.  I will begin with the first issue.

            It is by no means certain that Paul formally studied rhetoric at all. 

We do know that Paul was born in Tarsus and formally trained as a Pharisee.  One might postulate that his early education was of the Greek style, and so probably included training in rhetoric.[35]  But this cannot be confirmed.  In fact, Jeffrey Weima thinks Paul’s Pharisaic education reckons against an education in classical rhetoric.[36]

            There is, of course, the possibility that Paul learned something about rhetoric from observation.  Rhetoric was so popular in the ancient world that it can hardly be conceived of that anyone would have been unfamiliar with it.  We certainly do not know how many speeches Paul might have attended.  It is only conjecture to say that he knew anything about Greco-Roman rhetorical theory at all.  However, given the level of his education (he could speak and write Greek, after all) and the pervasive nature of rhetoric in the ancient world, it is highly likely that Paul did know something, at least on the implicit level, of how one ‘ought’ to speak.

            It is another question entirely to suggest that Paul made use of rhetoric.  Those who do not think that Paul was likely to make use of rhetoric in his speeches (and, by extension, in his epistles) frequently refer to 2 Cor. 10.10 and 11.6, and 1 Cor. 1-2.[37] The problem with utilizing these references in this way is that it is not at all clear that Paul is actually refusing to use rhetoric when writing to groups of believers.  Instead, the passages most naturally relate to Paul’s initial proclamation of the gospel to unbelievers.  It appears that Paul refuses to make converts by using rhetorical finesse, but these passages say nothing (explicitly) about Paul refusing to guide the churches by means of rhetoric.  Still, we must acknowledge Paul’s primary reason for not using rhetoric in these situations is because it drains the cross of its power through making it seem to be something that it is not: wise in the eyes of the world.  We can conclude, therefore, that Paul would reject the use of rhetoric anytime there was the chance of draining the cross of its power or of bringing about belief by any other means than by the power of God.

            Let us now move to a consideration of whether or not there is justification for applying rhetorical theory (ancient or modern) to Paul’s epistles.  One needs first to recognize that speech and writing are not the same things.  Communication in these two forms does not occur in the same way.  It is true that in antiquity it was taken for granted that the written word would not be read in silence, but the differences are still dramatic.  For one thing, even if some trusted emissary delivered Paul’s letters orally, and memory and delivery were a consideration for the presentation of Paul’s letters, there is still the problem of adaptation.  One essential facet of ancient rhetoric is that ancient orators knew they would have to adapt to their audience.  Because Paul’s letters were written before their delivery, there must have been no adaptation to the situation of the audience.  The significance of this for Pauline studies lies in the matter of scholarly re-creation of the historical situation into which Paul is writing.  There is always the possibility that the historical situation changed between the time of Paul’s writing (or even before it) and the time when the letter was delivered.  The rhetorical situation in the epistles cannot give us a perfect picture of the historical situation into which the letter was delivered.

            Furthermore, many have pointed out that there was such a thing as epistolary theory in the ancient world, and it did not concern itself with rhetorical theory.  Rhetorical theory and epistolary theory developed quite independently in the ancient world.[38]  Rhetorical handbooks say very little about epistles and epistolary handbooks say very little about rhetoric.  Some scholars have drawn the conclusion that we should, therefore, consider Paul’s epistles in light of epistolary theory and not rhetorical theory.  There is probably wisdom in this. 

We would also do well to remember that both rhetorical theory and epistolary theory were grounded in social situations:  rhetorical classifications and epistolary classifications were made on the basis of circumstance:

The method of taxonomy found in the handbooks of Demetrius and Libanius is far from unique.  It is an approach to classification employed widely in the rhetorical tradition.  That tradition was virtually unanimous in defining the three genē of rhetoric by means of social contexts and characteristic activities of speech within those contexts…[39]

This must mean, in part, that scholarship has been somewhat wrong-headed to classify Paul’s letters according to Greco-Roman type by attempting to use structure, style and specific types of argumentation (topoi) as the indicators of each type instead of social situation.  If Stowers is correct, then social situation is more important than an epistle’s structure, style or topoi.  Scholarship is using the rhetorical critical tool incorrectly if it tries to classify by means of structure, style or topoi.  There has, perhaps, been too much emphasis on classification.

Finally, Weima has noted that the circumstances of Paul’s writing differ from those of speech giving in that Paul is writing out of close personal relationship to his audience and out of the authority of an apostle; whereas speeches were typically delivered to equals (as in the cases of deliberative and epideictic speeches), or to those of greater status (as in the case of judicial rhetoric).[40]

            Where ought scholarship to go from here?  Rhetorical criticism has proven to be a useful aid in discerning the meaning of Paul’s message.  However, we must acknowledge that Paul’s epistles are not speeches, and we cannot treat them as if they were.  In the future, it might be useful to develop a more general theory of communication that includes rhetorical and epistolary genres, and that makes use of ancient as well as modern theories of communication.  Paul’s epistles are written documents, but they are first and foremost communication.  Surely speeches and writings have certain commonalities simply because they are communication.  In our fervour to make use of rhetorical theory, we should not forget its natural counterpart:  epistolary theory.  From my perspective, there is still a lot of room for growth in this discipline.  We need to move beyond providing structural outlines to examining how Paul’s rhetorical skill is employed in persuading his audiences, and to determining what his use of rhetoric tells us about what Paul believed and wanted his readers to believe.



[1] There are examples of rhetorical criticism of the NT at various times in the history of the church.  Saint Augustine and Philip Melanchthon, for example, made some use of rhetorical criticism in their discussions of Scripture.  It is, however, the modern period that this essay will focus on.

[2] Duane Litfin, St. Paul’s Theology of Proclamation: 1 Corinthians 1-4 and Greco-Roman Rhetoric (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 79.

[3] Litfin, 91.

[4] Quoted in Litfin, 101. 

[5] Litfin, 101.

[6] Litfin, 101-103.

[7] Litfin, 103.

[8] G.W. Hansen, “Rhetorical Criticism,” in Dictionary of Paul and His Letters, ed. Gerald F. Hawthorne, Ralph P. Martin, p. 822-826 (Leicester: InterVarsity Press, 1993), 824-825; these are Hansen’s phrases.

[9] For what follows, see George A. Kennedy, New Testament Interpretation through Rhetorical Criticism (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1984), 13-14.

[10] See Aristotle, On Rhetoric: A Theory of Civic Discourse, trans. by George A. Kennedy (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 37 (1355a = 2.2). 

[11] Kennedy, 14-15.

[12] Kennedy understands 1 Cor. 1.22-23 to mean that miracles were the primary form of evidence accepted by the Jews, in contrast to the logical reason accepted by the Greeks.  See Kennedy, 15.

[13] Aristotle, 37 (1355a = 2.2).

[14] Aristotle, 37 (1356a = 2.3).

[15] Aristotle, 38 (1356a = 2.4).

[16] Aristotle, 38 (1356a = 2.5).

[17] See Aristotle, 1356a = 2.5.

[18] Aristotle, 39 (1356a = 2.6).

[19] Aristotle, 40-41 (1356b = 2.8-10).

[20] See Aristotle, 1357a = 2.13.

[21] Aristotle, 47-48 (1358a-1358b = 3.1-3).

[22] For this and what follows, see Aristotle, 1358b = 3.3.

[23] For this and what follows, see Kennedy, 23-25.

[24] Kennedy, 23-24.

[25] Kennedy, 24.

[26] Kennedy, 24.

[27] Kennedy, 24.

[28] Kennedy, 24.

[29] See Kennedy, 26-27.

[30] Kennedy, 26.

[31] Kennedy, 27.  Kennedy mentions anaphora.  By this definition, alliteration and consonance would be figures of speech too.

[32] Kennedy, 27.

[33] See Kennedy, 27-28.

[34] For these steps, see Kennedy, 33-37.

[35] See B.W. Winter, “Rhetoric,” in Dictionary of Paul and His Letters, ed. Gerald F. Hawthorne, Ralph P. Martin, p. 820-822 (Leicester: InterVarsity Press, 1993), 820-821.

[36] See Jeffrey A. D. Weima, “What Does Aristotle Have to Do with Paul?: An Evaluation of Rhetorical Criticism,” in Calvin Theological Journal 32/2 (1997): 465.

[37] See, for example, Weima, 465-467.

[38] See Duane F. Watson, “Rhetorical Criticism of the Pauline Epistles Since 1975,” in Currents in Research: Biblical Studies 3 (1995): 222; see also Weima, 463.

[39] Stanley K. Stowers, Letter Writing in Greco-Roman Antiquity. Library of Early Christianity, 5, ed. Wayne A. Meeks (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1986), 54.

[40] See Weima, 467.