2.1 Ephorus of Cyme

The practice appears to have become established in the thirty volume History of Ephorus of Cyme.Footnote ⁹ A student of Isocrates according to ancient witnesses – although the association is far from secureFootnote ¹⁰ – Ephorus was the first universal historian.Footnote ¹¹ He began with the return of the Heraclidae (the sons of Heracles) – self-consciously avoiding the earlier mythological materialFootnote ¹² – and brought his story down to 340 bce and Phillip II’s siege of Perinthus, thus covering the entire classical period.Footnote ¹³ Diodorus summarised the work in these words: ‘He covered a period of almost 750 years, wrote 30 books having added a preface to each.’Footnote ¹⁴

Unfortunately, we have only eighty-nine fragments of his work.Footnote ¹⁵ We know that it was carefully structured. Diodorus contrasted Ephorus’ work with Timaeus’ in these words: ‘But Ephorus, on the other hand, in writing his universal history, hit the mark not only on the basis of style, but also on arrangement. For he composed each of the books based on a single topic (κατὰ γένος).’Footnote ¹⁶ The meaning of the phrase κατὰ γένος has been debated at length; the problem with reaching a solution is that our evidence is all fragmentary.Footnote ¹⁷ We have one significant hint. Diodorus went on to say: ‘So we also have preferred his method of handling materials (τοῦτο τὸ γένος τοῦ χειρισμοῦ) and – as far as possible – we are adhering to this principle.’Footnote ¹⁸ If we use Diodorus as a gauge, Ephorus made an effort to organise his material thematically, whether the structural device was geographical, temporal or biographical. He attached a preface to each book as a means of introducing the topic or historiographical concerns in the book. If the form that Diodorus used is any indication, the prefaces connected the flow of the narrative from one book to the next.Footnote ¹⁹ In the heyday of Quellenkritik, Richard Laqueur argued that Diodorus preserved some of the prefaces of Ephorus – at least in the main;Footnote ²⁰ however, more recent scholarship has wisely recognised the role of Diodorus as an author in these prefaces.Footnote ²¹ It is preferable to assume that Diodorus wrote with the same basic concerns as Ephorus, but it is difficult to be more precise. For this reason, we now turn to the later historian.

2.2 Diodorus Siculus

We are fortunate that we have fifteen books of Diodorus’ Bibliotheke fully preserved and fragments of the remaining twenty-five.Footnote ²² As we have just noted, in the nineteenth century, Diodorus was mined as a library of sources rather than treated as an author. Eduard Schwartz offered the most forthright assessment when he wrote: ‘(Diodoros’s) Bibliothek ist und will thatsächlich nichts anderes sein als eine Serie von Excerpten, die dem Leser die zeitraubende und kostspielige Lectüre der grossen Werke ersparen sollen.’ He continued by claiming that ‘Das Buch ist eben eine buchhändlerische Speculation, ohne jeden besonderen Anspruch, und sein Wert beruht darin, dass die eigene Arbeit der Verfasser so gering bewertet muss.’Footnote ²³ More recent scholarship has moved away from the view of Diodorus as a preserver of ancient histories who sat in a room and copied texts in an effort to tell a universal story to the view of Diodorus as an author who recast the sources he used and shaped the narrative as a whole.Footnote ²⁴

The prefaces have played a role in this debate.Footnote ²⁵ Diodorus followed the lead of Ephorus by using prefaces for each book. He opened the Bibliotheke with an extensive primary preface,Footnote ²⁶ consistently framed each individual book with a secondary prefaceFootnote ²⁷ and concluded each book with a summary statement that set up the next book.Footnote ²⁸ Diodorus used different forms for his secondary prefaces.Footnote ²⁹ The constant was that he summarised the preceding book and introduced the current book: in five cases, this is the secondary prefaceFootnote ³⁰ – although there are at least two additional examples of an introduction without a summary of the previous book, suggesting that there was room for some flexibility;Footnote ³¹ in the other seven cases from the fully extant books, Diodorus added historiographical comments that introduced concerns for the work.Footnote ³² The most famous example of this expansion is his secondary preface to book twenty where he discussed the role of speeches in historiography.Footnote ³³ Diodorus complained openly about those who converted history into a form of rhetoric: ‘But now some have become so occupied with their rhetorical speeches that they have made all of history into an appendix of populist oratory.’Footnote ³⁴ While he recognised the place of speeches, he wanted to preserve the flow of historical narratives. Such comments typically come at the outset of his preface, which he concludes with a secondary preface proper. So, if we continue with the preface to book twenty, he began the secondary preface proper with a summary of the previous book: ‘In the preceding books, we wrote about the deeds of Greeks and barbarians from ancient times until the year prior to Agathocles’s Libya campaign – the years from the sack of Troy to this total 883.’ He then turned to the current book: ‘In this book, we have added the succeeding events in the historical narrative: we will begin with Agatholces’s crossing into Libya and continue down to the year in which the kings formed an alliance and began military operations against Antigonus, son of Philip, a period that lasted nine years.’Footnote ³⁵

Diodorus thus followed the lead of Ephorus, but not uniquely: he supposed that secondary prefaces were a standard practice in his period.Footnote ³⁶ He began his secondary preface to book 13 with these words: ‘If we were to compose a history similar to those of others, we would provide a discourse in the preface concerning the topics to the extent it was appropriate and in this way transfer the account to the following events.’Footnote ³⁷

2.3 Philo of Alexandria

These prefaces became common in fields well beyond history, as our third author illustrates. Philo of Alexandria is one of the most important authors from Greek-speaking Judaism whose works have come down to us. He wrote three major sets of commentaries on the Pentateuch and a number of other treatises that modern scholars have grouped under the headings of apologetic and philosophical treatises.Footnote ³⁸ He made use of secondary prefaces in the two major commentary seriesFootnote ³⁹ and in a pair of apologetic and a pair of philosophical treatises.

We know his magnum opus as the Allegorical Commentary, a name that comes from the title that Eusebius assigned to the opening treatises in the series.Footnote ⁴⁰ Philo introduced six of the nineteen extant treatises of the original thirty-two treatises in the series with secondary prefaces.Footnote ⁴¹ Interestingly, three of these deal with treatises in the Noah cycle and three with treatises in the Abraham cycle. By cycle, I mean that Philo created sub-groups of treatises in the Allegorical Commentary that concentrated on specific figures: Cain, Noah and Abraham. Noah was the third and climactic figure of the first triad, and Abraham was the first figure in the second triad of ancestors whom Philo held out as models for virtue.Footnote ⁴²

Let us use the examples in the Noah cycle to illustrate Philo’s handling of secondary prefaces in the Allegorical Commentary. Philo opened his treatment of Noah’s work as a keeper of the vine with these words: ‘In the former book (ἐν μὲν τῷ προτέρῳ βιβλίῳ) we discussed the matters pertaining to general agricultural skills, at least what was appropriate to it. In this book, we will explain (ἐν δὲ τούτῳ … ἀποδώσομεν) – as best we can – the particular skill of tending vines.’Footnote ⁴³ Like Diodorus who consistently concluded a preceding work with a summary, Philo set this preface up in the final words of the preceding treatise De agricultura: ‘Let us speak in turn about his skill in cultivating plants.’Footnote ⁴⁴ The close connection between De agricultura and De plantatione led Eusebius to speak of two works De agricultura.Footnote ⁴⁵ While the two are separate treatises, they are clearly related and are units of a larger whole. The Alexandrian continued the connection among treatises dealing with Noah when he opened De ebrietate with a secondary preface that looked back to De plantatione: ‘We have mentioned – to the best of our ability – the things that other philosophers have said about intoxication in the preceding book (ἐν τῇ πρὸ ταύτης ὑπεμνήσαμεν βίβλῳ). Let us now consider what the incredibly great and wise lawgiver thinks about it.’Footnote ⁴⁶ The reference is to Plant. 139–77, esp. 142–8.Footnote ⁴⁷ Philo again used a secondary preface for De sobrietate that looked back to De ebrietate: ‘Having gone through the things the lawgiver said about intoxication and nakedness previously (πρότερον), let us begin to append the subsequent account (τὸν ἑξῆς … λόγον) to what has been said.’Footnote ⁴⁸ Philo has thus used secondary prefaces to create a literary unity among these four treatises: the first has an anticipatory summary that sets up the succeeding treatise and the following three each refer back to the preceding treatise. The secondary prefaces thus create an interlocking grid among these treatises. The Alexandrian did the same thing for three treatises in the Abraham cycle.Footnote ⁴⁹

Philo was more consistent in his other major commentary, the work that since the nineteenth century we have called the Exposition of the Law.Footnote ⁵⁰ We have twelve of the original fifteen works in this series.Footnote ⁵¹ Apart from the introductory biography De vita Moysis Footnote ⁵² and the first treatise in the series, De opificio mundi, every treatise opens with a secondary preface, a feature that gives the series a unity.Footnote ⁵³ In the second work of the series, De Abrahamo, and in the last treatise, De praemiis et poenis, Philo offered a plan for the entire series.Footnote ⁵⁴ He also provided a transitional explanation at the conclusion of De decalogo that set up De specialibus legibus, by informing us that he would use the Ten Words as headings for other lawsFootnote ⁵⁵ – just as he set up De plantatione at the conclusion of De agricultura, and as Diodorus set up his successive books. Philo was also consistent in the form that he used for a secondary preface: he summarised the preceding treatise(s) and introduced the new one. So, for example, he began De decalogo with these words: ‘Having rehearsed in the preceding treatises (ἐν ταῖς προτέραις συντάξεσι μεμηνυκώς) the lives of those men considered wise by Moses whom the sacred scriptures set out as founders of our nation and unwritten laws,Footnote ⁵⁶ I will now accurately describe in proper sequence the types of the inscribed laws.’Footnote ⁵⁷

Philo structured his introductory De vita Moysis with extreme care, a point to which we will return below.Footnote ⁵⁸ For now, it is enough to note that he employed a primary preface,Footnote ⁵⁹ a lengthy secondary preface that summarised the structure of the entire work,Footnote ⁶⁰ summary statements at the end of each bookFootnote ⁶¹ and three transitional statements.Footnote ⁶² The work is exceptionally clear in its structure.

In addition to the two major commentary series, Philo also used secondary prefaces in two sets of paired treatises: one pair in his apologetic works and one pair in his philosophical works. Unfortunately, we only have the second treatise from each pair. Among the apologetic works, Philo wrote an account of the Therapeuate which opened with a reference back to his treatment of the Essenes. The latter represented the active life and the former the contemplative life.Footnote ⁶³ In his philosophical works, Philo composed a pair of treatises that explore a famous Stoic paradox: Quod omnis probus liber sit opens with a reference back to a now-lost Quod omnis improbus servus sit. In language that reminds us of the preface of Acts, the Alexandrian wrote: ‘Our former treatise (ὁ μὲν πρότερος λόγος ἦν ἡμῖν), Theodotus, was about the theme that every worthless person was a slave and we established its validity with many reasonable and cogent arguments.’ Philo then explained the present treatise: ‘This treatise is related to that, a brother from the same father and the same mother, like a twin, in which we will show that every good person is free.’Footnote ⁶⁴ The secondary prefaces in each pair link the two treatises together as complements and make it clear that they cannot be separated.

2.4 Josephus

The final figure we will consider is Josephus. The Jewish historian opened each of his four works with a primary preface,Footnote ⁶⁵ with the exception of his Vita, which used the anticipatory summary that concluded the Antiquitates Judaicae as an introduction (see below).Footnote ⁶⁶ He used secondary prefaces, but more sparingly than his Alexandrian colleague. He did not make use of them in the Bellum Judaicum, employing only brief statements that rounded off a story at the conclusion of a book and permitted Josephus to begin the new book with a fresh story or scene.Footnote ⁶⁷ In three cases, he forged a link between books by concluding a book with a μέν clause and opening the next book with a δέ clause.Footnote ⁶⁸

In the Antiquitates Judaicae, Josephus again used concluding sentences to round off a narrative at the conclusion of a book.Footnote ⁶⁹ He formed connections between books in two ways: he used the μέν … δέ construction to link books seven times,Footnote ⁷⁰ and secondary prefaces to connect them five times.Footnote ⁷¹ The historian used secondary prefaces in two ways: twice he used the classic model of summarising a preceding book and introducing a new one,Footnote ⁷² and three times he summarised the preceding book and immediately plunged into the current book.Footnote ⁷³ One example from each will suffice. Josephus used the death of a major figure to conclude a book on eight occasions.Footnote ⁷⁴ Following the death of Queen Alexandra, he wrote: ‘Since the affairs of Queen Alexandra and her death have been set out by us in the book preceding this one (ἐν τῇ πρὸ ἡμῖν βίβλῳ), we will now speak of the events that immediately followed, keeping in mind nothing other than not to omit one event whether through ignorance or by slip of memory.’Footnote ⁷⁵ As brief as this final note is, it reflects the addition of a historiographical comment similar to those of Ephorus and Diodorus.Footnote ⁷⁶ In three other examples, Josephus referred to the preceding book and moved immediately into the new book. So, for example, he introduced book 13 with these words: ‘How the Jewish nation reacquired their freedom after the Macedonian had conquered them and through how many and how great battles their military commander Judas had come before he died fighting on their behalf, we have indicated in the previous book (ἐν τῇ πρὸ ταύτης βίβλῳ).’ Without any further comment, he continued: ‘After Judas’s death, however many were still left of the impious and those who transgressed their ancestral constitution sprang up among the Jews and from all sides inflicted injury on them.’Footnote ⁷⁷ The common element in all five of Josephus’ secondary prefaces is the summary of the preceding book that allows him to build a connection with the new book.Footnote ⁷⁸

The work that Josephus marked out most carefully was Contra Apionem. Footnote ⁷⁹ In this case he not only offered a primary preface,Footnote ⁸⁰ but a resumptive preface following his excursus on Eastern historiography,Footnote ⁸¹ a secondary preface in the opening of book 2,Footnote ⁸² a complex conclusionFootnote ⁸³ and three major transitional statements.Footnote ⁸⁴ The secondary preface that opens book 2 is a classic example that summarises the preceding book and introduces the new book: ‘Ιn my preceding book (διὰ μὲν οὖν τοῦ προτέρου βιβλίου) I demonstrated our antiquity by relying on the truth of the writings of the Phoenicians, Chaldeans, and Egyptians and by having adduced many Greek authors as witnesses. I refuted Manetho, Chaeremon, and certain others’ – a reasonable summary of book 1 minus his explanation of why the Greek failed to mention the Jews.Footnote ⁸⁵ This led him to offer the introduction to the current scroll: ‘I will now begin to rebut the remaining authors who have written something against us.’Footnote ⁸⁶

2.5 The Preface of Acts

These four examples could be multiplied: Polybius used secondary prefaces (προγραφαί) in his first six books before abandoning them for summaries (προεκθέσεις) of what was to come during the Olympiad he would cover,Footnote ⁸⁷ as well as summaries at the conclusion of his books.Footnote ⁸⁸ On the other hand, not every author did: Dionysius of Halicarnassus did not.Footnote ⁸⁹ What about the author of Acts?

While we may debate the extent of the opening preface of Acts,Footnote ⁹⁰ it begins with a summary of the previous book: ‘I wrote the former treatise (τὸν μὲν πρῶτον λόγον), Theophilus, about everything that Jesus began to do and to teach until the day he was taken up after he had charged the apostles through the Holy Spirit.’Footnote ⁹¹ The challenge of where to place the conclusion of the preface is due to the writing by the author. The text opens with a μέν that sets up the summary of the previous work, but never follows with a νῦν δέ that provides a summary of the current book.Footnote ⁹² Instead, the author retells the final section of Luke as a means of creating a continuous narrative that flows directly into the narrative of Acts. In this way, it is very similar to the practice of Josephus, who on three occasions – as we have seen – referred to the previous book and then began the narrative of the new book.Footnote ⁹³

The summary of the former book makes the secondary nature of the preface unambiguous. While some have recognised the secondary character of the preface of Acts,Footnote ⁹⁴ others have treated it as if it were a primary preface.Footnote ⁹⁵ If it were the latter, Acts could well be an independent work that served as a sequel to Luke, but not as the second part of a unified work. The form of the preface, however, is unambiguously that of a secondary preface.

How does this preface relate to the primary preface of Luke 1.1–4? Some have argued that the primary preface of Luke 1.1–4 covers not only the Gospel, but Acts as well.Footnote ⁹⁶ Others demur.Footnote ⁹⁷ I do not think that the primary preface of Luke requires Acts, but it is fully compatible with it. In other words, the preface makes good sense for Luke as an independent scroll, but at the same time, the preface provides an orientation for Acts. Let me offer one example. The author opened with a reference to previous authors: ‘Since many have undertaken to compose a narrative about the things that have been fulfilled among us’ (περὶ τῶν πεπληροφορημένων ἐν ἡμῖν πραγμάτων). The meaning of πληροφορέω is debatable: does it mean ‘that have occurred’ or ‘that have been fulfilled’? While both are defensible, I prefer the latter based on the larger orientation of the narrative.Footnote ⁹⁸ The gospel concludes with a scene in which Jesus explained to the disciples ‘that it is necessary that everything written about me in the law, in the prophets, and in the Psalms, must be fulfilled (δεῖ πληρωθῆναι)’. He then explained that this included three things: ‘that the Messiah must suffer and be raised from the dead on the third day and that conversion for the forgiveness of sins must be proclaimed in his name to all the nations’.Footnote ⁹⁹ Two of these have already occurred; the third anticipates the narrative of Acts. This is the author’s preview of the next scroll. It is subsumed under a fulfilment formula that uses a cognate to the verb in the primary preface. I read this as a summary statement of the end of one scroll that sets up the next.Footnote ¹⁰⁰

What implications does the secondary preface have for the genres of Luke and Acts? D. W. Palmer argued that works that open with recapitulations can belong to a different genre than the work they succeed.Footnote ¹⁰¹ While this is a possibility, I regard it as improbable at best in a work that goes out of its way to create a narrative unity. The point of the secondary preface is to connect one narrative to a previous narrative. A reader cannot come to Acts de novo, Luke is presumed: there is a degree of literary unity that should be respected.Footnote ¹⁰² When genres are changed, the shift is indicated in the preface itself. So, for example, Josephus opened Contra Apionem with a reference back to the Antiquitates Judaicae, but he made the shift in genre clear in the preface.Footnote ¹⁰³ No one considers Contra Apionem to be Antiquitates Judaicae 21 and 22. Similarly, the Vita has a clear relationship to the Antiquitates Judaicae, but lacks a secondary preface and clearly belongs to a different genre. We call it an appendix, but no one confuses the autobiographical nature of the Vita and the historiographical nature of the Antiquitates Judaicae. Josephus made the distinction clear.

The same clear distinction cannot be drawn for the shift from one book to another in Diodorus’ Bibliotheke or Philo of Alexandria’s commentaries. Even in a case like Diodorus’ presentation of Alexander the Great in book 17 which has the structure of a Plutarchian biography, it is a bios embedded within a much larger narrative that must be understood in order to grasp the story of Alexander.Footnote ¹⁰⁴ Perhaps a stronger case for distinction could be made for Philo’s De Abrahamo or De Iosepho in the Exposition of the Law. They are bioi,Footnote ¹⁰⁵ yet they are not straightforward bioi: they have allegorical commentaries attached to every story narrated.Footnote ¹⁰⁶ For this reason, I consider them biographical commentaries and part of a commentary series rather than bioi inserted into a commentary series. In nuce, I find it difficult to think that Luke could be one genre and Acts another when the author has explicitly linked them together.

3.1 Polybius

The first comes from Polybius, whose 40-scroll history tells the story of how Rome came to dominate the inhabited world. The composition of his Histories was undoubtedly complex. One example of the complicated nature comes from the relationship between books 4 and 5. The historian narrated the conflict between the Rhodians and the Byzantines in 220 bce, within the context of his discussion of Byzantium more broadly in book 4.Footnote ¹⁰⁹ The account is unsurprising Polybian narrative. The surprise comes a book later when reading about the devastating earthquake that hit Rhodes ca. 227 bce, which even brought down the colossus.Footnote ¹¹⁰ Polybius had been discussing affairs in Asia when he introduced this disaster and the generous response of others to the Rhodians. The text is clearly out of place in book 5, but would make sense in book 4 within the context of his discussion of Rhodes. The question is how do we explain the dislocation? One answer is that the earthquake account was originally part of book 4, but was displaced and has become attached to book 5.Footnote ¹¹¹ While this is possible, it lacks manuscript evidence and has not, for that reason, won widespread acceptance. The alternative is that Polybius learned about the earthquake after he had already released book 4 and added it in book 5.Footnote ¹¹² This has greater plausibility and suggests that Polybius did not hold scrolls after he completed them – at least not in this instance.

3.2 Dionysius of Halicarnassus

The second example is more straightforward. In book 7 of his Antiquitates Romanae, Dionysius of Halicarnassus stated that he would finally fulfil the promise that he made at the outset of his work: ‘For I promised at the end of the first scroll,Footnote ¹¹³ which I composed and published about their (the Romans) origin, the demonstration by many certain proofs, supplying customs, laws and ancient ways of living which they guard to the present time just as they received them from their ancestors.’Footnote ¹¹⁴ What strikes me about this statement is that Dionysius does not sense anything unusual about having released a scroll in a work prior to the completion of the entire work: he assumes it as a natural course of events.

3.3 Philo of Alexandria

The third example is once again from Philo of Alexandria. We have already noted that Philo structured De vita Moysis with exceptional care. There are, however, some tensions in his statements about the structure of the work. The primary preface does not lay out the plan for the entire work. At the conclusion of book 1, Philo – following the practice that Diodorus and Polybius attest – explained what he intended to do in the next book: ‘We have mentioned the things that were done by him in his office as king. Next, it is necessary to speak about what he successfully achieved as high priest and legislator; for he acquired these capacities which are especially fitting for the office of king.’Footnote ¹¹⁵

There is nothing surprising about this statement until we read the secondary preface that opens book 2 and the concluding summary in the second book. Philo opened his second scroll with a secondary preface that began with a summary of the preceding book and then turned to the present book: ‘the treatise that we are now composing is about related and subsequent matters. For some say without being wide of the mark that states can only advance towards the better if either the kings practice philosophy or if the philosophers serve as kings’ – a clear allusion to Plato’s Republic.Footnote ¹¹⁶ Philo continued: ‘But he is seen to have displayed in abundance these two capacities in the same person, the royal and the philosophical, and three others in addition, of which one is concerned with legislation, another with the high priesthood, and the last with prophecy.’ Philo then added: ‘I have now chosen to speak about these having been forced to conclude that all are brought together in one person.’Footnote ¹¹⁷ The statement is a summary of the contents of the two scrolls: 1.5–333, Moses as king; 2.8–65, Moses as legislator; 2.66–186, Moses as high priest; and 2.187–291, Moses as prophet. The summary statement at the conclusion of book 2 is parallel: ‘Such was the life and such was the death of the king, legislator, high priest, and prophet Moses as memorialized in the sacred writings.’Footnote ¹¹⁸

What arrests our attention is that the statements in book 2 differ in two ways from the concluding summary of book 1. The first and most obvious is that the summary at the end of book 1 gives a threefold structure, while the secondary preface and the summary in book 2 offer a fourfold structure. There is no hint of treating Moses as a prophet in book 1; this is only a feature of book 2. The second difference is that Philo has altered the order in which he proposed to deal with the offices of Moses: the summary in book 1 suggests that Philo will treat Moses as a high priest and then as a legislator; the secondary preface and summary in book 2 both offer the sequence of legislator, high priest and prophet, which is the sequence of the text, reversing the sequence of legislator and high priest given in the summary in book 1. Was Philo careless when he concluded book 1, or did he change plans between the time that he wrote the first scroll and the second? I think that the latter is more likely, given the care that Philo gave to the structure of the work.Footnote ¹¹⁹

3.4 Josephus

The final examples come from Josephus. The works of the Jewish historian are complex in their compositional history. A significant number of scholars have noted that there are noteworthy shifts in perspectives between the first six books of the Bellum Judaicum and the seventh. It is entirely possible that the work went through at least three phases: an independent Aramaic work,Footnote ¹²⁰ the Greek books 1–6 and the Greek books 1–7.Footnote ¹²¹ This suggests that the first six Greek books circulated without book 7, which was added at a later date.

The case is far more certain when we consider the Vita. This work – as we noted above – is an appendix to the Antiquitates Judaicae.Footnote ¹²² Like others who anticipated a work in a concluding statement of the preceding work, Josephus set up the Vita in the conclusion to the Antiquitates: ‘With this I will stop my Antiquities which embraces twenty books and sixty thousand stichoi. If the Deity permits, I will set out a running account of the war and what has happened to us until the present day.’Footnote ¹²³ He echoed this at the conclusion of the Vita when he wrote: ‘Having produced for you, most excellent of men Epaphroditus, the entire account of our Antiquities up to the present, I stop my account at this point.’Footnote ¹²⁴ Eusebius understood the relationship between the Antiquitates Judaicae and the Vita accurately when he cited a passage from the Vita and noted that Josephus added it ‘at the end of the Antiquities’.Footnote ¹²⁵

3.5 Acts

The point of this limited survey is to say that there are a number of examples of authors who released some scrolls in their multi-volume works before the work was completed. I suggest that this helps us understand some of the inconcinnities that exist between Luke and Acts. If the author, like Philo when he wrote the De vita Moysis, composed Luke and let it begin to circulate before he wrote Acts, this would explain some of the shifts. Just as Philo changed his mind about the structure of the work, so the author of Acts changed his mind about the timing of the ascension.Footnote ¹²⁶ Since there were already gospels in circulation according to the preface to Luke, it would have been quite understandable for the Third Gospel to be identified with them. Once Luke’s place among the gospels was established, Acts would need to circulate separately in spite of the secondary preface. This is not entirely surprising: Philo’s De vita Moysis became three books in the manuscript tradition, even though Philo explicitly stated that he wrote it in two!Footnote ¹²⁷ It is roughly like Josephus’ Vita that was written as an appendix to the Antiquitates Judaicae, but circulated separately. In this case, the scribes could defend the decision since the appendix is more of an autobiography than another book in the Antiquitates Judaicae. This is likely the basic line of reasoning behind those who handed down Acts separately: it was unlike the gospels with which Luke had become associated. In both cases, scribal judgements overrode authorial statements.Footnote ¹²⁸

How long was the interval between Luke and Acts? We do not have any way to answer this with specificity – just as we cannot speak with confidence about the length of the gap between Philo’s De vita Moysis 1 and 2. It is clear that the author did some additional research as the shift of the time of the ascension makes clear. It is also evident that the author investigated the geography of the areas he discussed – via various venues or meansFootnote ¹²⁹ – and made efforts to explore different traditions.Footnote ¹³⁰ How long did this take? The firm terminus a quo is the Gospel of Luke, and the terminus ad quem is the death of the author. If Steve Mason is correct that Luke knew the works of Josephus, especially the Antiquitates Judaicae which was completed in 93/94 ce,Footnote ¹³¹ – or heard the Jewish historian lecture – and if the author was a third-generation follower of the Way as the primary preface in Luke suggests,Footnote ¹³² then the date of Luke would be in the mid to late 90s and Acts early in the second century. Unfortunately, we do not have enough information to be precise. One principle that seems reasonable is that the longer the gap, the more readily explicable the separate circulation of Luke and Acts.