It will now be valuable to summarize the most important criticisms of form criticism in order to get the whole movement into perspective and to assess its value. We may note several assumptions made by the thoroughgoing form critics:
1. That before the written gospels there was a period of oral tradition.
2. That during this period, narratives and sayings (except the passion narrative) circulated as separate self-contained units.
3. That the gospels must be regarded as folk literature.
4. That the gospel material can be classified according to literary form.
5. That the gospels are to be regarded as community productions.
6. That the vital factors which produced and preserved these forms are to be found in the practical interests of the Christian community, known as the Sitz im Leben.
7. That the traditions have no chronological or geographical value.
8. That the original form of the traditions may be recovered by studying the laws of the tradition.1 Very few of these assumptions can be considered valid, at least in the form in which form critics generally accept them. Even the first must be qualified by the recognition of eyewitnesses who would have exercised some constraining influence on the tradition. But it is a basic assumption of form criticism that eyewitness testimony had no influence upon the development of community products. This has recently been vigorously maintained by D. E.
Nineham,2 who considers the community argument to be a posteriori and the eyewitness point of view to be a priori. This is because he regards the gospels as no more than
collections of ‘units’, and from this deduces that eyewitnesses could have had nothing to do with the preservation of the material. But in rejecting the a priori view in favour of the a posteriori he comes very near to arguing in a circle. Since he accepts as the basic article of form criticism the virtual exclusion of eyewitness influence he is bound to explain away all eyewitness traces. The fallacy of his method is clearly seen when, in order to dispute Petrine recollections behind Mark, he enquires why Mark did not make more use of these (if he had access to them) in preference to community traditions.1 As a concluding justification for the
1 For details of these assumptions, cf. E. B. Redlich, Form Criticism pp. 34 ff; D. E. Aune, Jesus and the Synoptic Gospels (1980), p. 33. The latter admits that few form critics would subscribe to all of the points he raises without modification. For further assessments of form criticism, cf. R. Latourelle, Finding Jesus through the Gospels (1978), pp. 143 ff.: W. A. Maier, Form Criticism Re‐examined (1973). The latter is strongly critical of radical form criticism.
2 JTS, n.s., 9 (1958), pp. 13–25, 243–252; 11 (1960), pp. 253–264.
1 JTS 9, p. 22. R. H. Stein, The Synoptic Problem (1987), p. 212 n. 61 regards Nineham’s method of argument as fallacious, because the rejection of miracles, which is a presupposition of this school of criticism, is itself based on an a priori presupposition. R. P. C Hanson (Vindications, 1966, p. 38) has expressed the vicious circle into which form critics fall in the following way: ‘1. The materials of the Gospels have been radically altered and re‐handled in order to speak appropriately to the Sitz im Leben of the Church which re‐handled them. 2. The Sitz im Leben of the Church which was the
form-critical approach he appeals to the fact that the modern approach to history puts less value on eyewitness attestation than on later assessment. But it is difficult to suppose, for instance, that a Christian some thirty or forty years after the incident of, let us say, the coin and the tax problem, would have been in a better position to assess its validity than an eyewitness who not only saw the coin and heard the conversation, but was himself under obligation to pay tax. This method of making the alleged absence of eyewitness attestation into a virtue must be rejected.
The idea of detached units may be true of some of the material, but the gospels
themselves bear testimony to many connected sequences (e.g. Mk. 1:21–39; 2:1–3:6). If the passion narrative existed in continuous form, as is generally conceded, why not other
narratives? The fallacy of supposing that the Christian community was wholly responsible for the origin of the different forms has already been exposed when criticizing Bultmann. As far as the sayings material is concerned it may just as well be assumed that the originator of the forms was our Lord himself. Moreover, to maintain that the traditional materials have no chronological or geographical value is a value judgment which is not borne out by the
evidence of the New Testament as a whole. The resemblance of the general outline of Mark’s gospel to the summary of Peter’s proclamation in Cornelius’ house (Acts 10:38 f.) has been shown to point to some sequence. Moreover, the tradition that behind Mark may be traced the reminiscences of Peter has too much to commend it to be lightly dismissed (see pp. 162 ff.) and it is impossible to suppose that an eyewitness would be entirely bereft of chronological or geographical sense.1 Again, since the events contained in the gospels present a reasonably intelligible sequence and location, it is unreasonable to deny this impression or to attribute it to later influences without the strongest possible justification; but this would seem to be lacking.2 The idea of laws of the traditions is misleading, for it suggests a rigidity which is not only most unlikely, but definitely unsupported by other evidence.3 When dealing with criterion by which materials of the Gospels were re‐handled can be reconstructed—from the
material in the Gospels.’ R. P. Martin, Foundations 1, pp. 204–205, opposes Nineham’s dismissal of Peter as the witness behind Mark on the following three grounds. Without eyewitness testimony, reports in the gospels would be the work of a faceless community; there is a fallacy in supposing that all is a community product; and the theory ignores the process of redaction.
1 Form critics would not, of course, admit the validity of this argument since eyewitness testimony is ex hypothesi excluded.
2 Conzelmann’s carefully reasoned arguments that Luke’s geographical allusions are dictated by his theological purpose, it valid, would supply such justification, but his arguments are too often dominated by his form‐critical method to be convincing. To cite one example, in discussing the passage Lk. 6:1–7:50, he sees the references to some places (mountain, lake) as symbolic, or where specific, as in Lk.6:17, as being more significant for omissions (Galilee, Idumea, Perea) than inclusion (The Theology of St. Luke, pp. 44 ff.). Yet he gives no serious consideration to the references to Capernaum and Nain in this passage. It is difficult to escape the impression that much of the symbolism is Conzelmann’s rather than Luke’s. But these arguments warrant a fuller and more detailed critique than is possible here.
3 On the laws of traditions, the early form critics were influenced by an essay written by A. Olrik in 1909. An English translation of this essay, under the title of ‘Epic Laws of Folk Narrative’, is included in The Study of Folklore (ed. A. Dundes, 1965), pp. 129–141. This writer argued for ‘superorganic’
human minds, through whom the tradition was passed on, it is difficult to speak of laws.
Moreover, if the proposed laws are deduced from a wide range of folk material stretching over centuries it could not be assumed that oral traditions must always conform to these.4 There are too many unpredictable factors. Moreover, the controlling influence of the Holy Spirit over the tradition finds no place in this conception.5
a. The limits of form criticism
But in spite of the very considerable modifications which need to be made to the assumptions just considered, is there not some ground for maintaining that the gospels material can be classified according to literary form? The form critics would, of course, reply in the
affirmative although, as already mentioned, with various emphases. The obvious danger of classifying the material according to content rather than literary form is well illustrated in the hypotheses of Dibelius and Bultmann, but such procedure ceases to be form criticism, in the strict sense of the word.
Any assessment of form criticism must take into account the following limits.
1. Only materials with recognized forms may be included and classification according to contents must be excluded.
2. It must be remembered that Christ the Teacher was greater than the Christian
community which he founded and it must be expected that he left his stamp on the form as well as the content of the oral tradition of his teaching.
3. Variations in the tradition may not be assumed on that account to be unhistorical, since Jesus may himself have repeated some of his teachings on different occasions and in different forms.
4. No form-critical hypotheses are justified which ignore the presence of eyewitnesses during the oral period.
5. Form criticism cannot assume that a study of non-Christian forms such as legends and myths must supply sufficient parallels without regard to the uniqueness of content of the gospel material.
6. The uniqueness of the material is because of the uniqueness of the Person in whom it is centred and for whom the early Christians were prepared to suffer even death. Any form criticism which loses sight of this becomes at once divorced from reality, The Christians would not have been prepared to die in order to defend the products of their own
imaginations.
When all the limitations are taken into account the scope of a true form-critical approach will be seen to be severely restricted. Yet with such restrictions it may well be asked whether such a movement can really make any effective contribution to gospel criticism. Some
laws which controlled writers at narratives. Cf. E. P. Sanders, The Tendencies of the Synoptic
Tradition (1969), who challenges the existence of laws in the transmission of traditions. Even more devastating against the idea of laws is W. H. Kelber’s study on orality and textuality, The Oral and Written Gospel (1983). Cf. also E. Guttgemanns, Gospel Form Criticism, pp. 196–211.
4 C. H. Dodd, in his Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel (1963), p. 6, cautions against such an assumption.
5 On the subject of the place of the Holy Spirit in the tradition, E. F. Harrison (Jesus of Nazarerth:
Saviour and Lord, 1966, p. 163) points out that it may not be accidental that Hultmann has no real doctrine of the Spirit.
indication of the claims made for it by the more moderate form critics may consequently be given.1
1
D. E. Aune, op, cit., p. 35, points out seven areas in which criticisms of form criticism have been made.
1. The non‐literary character of the gospels has been challenged, particularly by E. Guttgemanns, Candid Questions (1979), pp. 130 ff. Genre criticism has also tended to reduce emphasis on their non‐literary character.
2. Criticism has been levelled against the view that the classifications point to identifiable forms.
Redlich’s ‘Formless Stories’, for example, do not lend themselves to such criticism. Classification by form critics is in fact all too often based on content rather than on form. Aune exempts Kasemann, NT Questions of Today (1969), pp. 66–81, and R. A. Edwards, ZNTW 60 (1969), pp. 9–20, from this criticism.
3. There have been some objections to the idea of oral transmission. Cf. E.E. Ellis, Prophecy and Hermeneutic (1979), pp. 237–253; H. M. Teeple, ‘Oral Tradition that never existed’, JBL 89 (1970), pp. 56–68. But Aune thinks the arguments against it are not convincing.
4. On the lack of a narrative framework, Aune refers to Dodd’s criticism (New Testament Studies, 1953, pp. 1–11), but also points out that to eliminate chronological and geographical material on this score ignores the fact that rabbinical material still preserved such references without a narrative framework.
5. Sitze im Leben cannot be independently established. Much is the result of scholarly imagination.
6. The view that the evangelists are not historians does not necessarily mean they were
disinterested in history (cf. the work of Riesenfeld and Gerhardsson here). The idea of community creativity has been criticized. It has been pointed out that the period between the ministry of Jesus and the first gospel is too short to allow time for such developments.
7. The assumption that the purer the form the earlier it must be has been criticized, especially by E.
P. Sanders (The Tendencies of the Synoptic Tradition, 1969), who concluded that (a) Synoptic traditions in post‐canonical literature did not consistently become longer or shorter; (b) Details are sometimes added and sometimes omitted in transmission; (c) Semitic syntax and style do not necessarily prove a tradition to be early.
For other examinations of form criticism, cf. P. Benoit, ‘Reflections on “Formgeschichtliche
Methode”’, Jesus and the Gospel (1973), pp. 11–45; W. Elert, Form Criticism Re‐examined (1973); R.
T. Fortna, ‘Redaction Criticism NT’, IDB Suppl., pp. 733–735. H. Riesenfeld, The Gospel Tradition (1970), pp. 1–74, includes some essays on tradition and myth and the composition of Mark; P.
Misner in Critical History and Biblical Faith: New Testament Perspectives (ed. T.J. Ryan, 1979), pp.
177–207, discusses the historical Jesus. Cf. also G. N. Stanton, ‘On Form‐Criticism Revisited’, in What about the New Testament? (eds. M. Hooker and C. J. A. Hickling, 1975), pp. 28–44; S. H. Travis, ‘Form Criticism’, in New Testament Interpretation (ed. I. H. Marshall, 1977), pp. 153–164.