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Authors who employ novel or unorthodox narrative devices in their work often face a critical dilemma – they are caught between the Scylla of underutilization and the Charybdis of excess. On the one hand, they may successfully introduce such a narrative device into their work but ultimately fail to realize its full potential. On the other, they may get so carried away with the device that it becomes a gimmick (much to the story's detriment). In The Lost Letters of Pergamum, Bruce Longnecker has managed to thread the needle and made a daring escape through these treacherous creative straights.
In The Lost Letters, Longnecker tells a tale of convictional change and the power of Christian community through a series of fictional epistolary exchanges between Antipas, a Roman nobleman and official, and St. Luke the Evangelist. These letters detail Antipas’ involvement in Roman civic life, his interactions with St. Luke’s Gospel and the Christian community in Pergamum, and his ultimate conversion and martyrdom. The letters are entirely fictional but follow the conventions of modern biblical scholarship; they are made to appear as though they have been compiled by a fictional editor, who leaves footnotes annotating chronological and archaeological details associated with the letters. By using these narrative devices, Longnecker seeks to ground the reader’s imagination thoroughly in the world of Antipas and Luke – a world of honor of shame, of humble virtue and extravagant vice, of the empire of Caesar and the empire of God.
Longnecker uses these fictional letters to peer into the mind of Antipas, showing us what preconceptions and assumptions need to be relinquished for the gospel to take root. Chief among these presuppositions is Antipas’ Roman religion. Longnecker subtly shows how this is laid aside with the epistolatory format by changing Antipas’ greetings throughout the book.
Early in the narrative, Antipas opens and closes his letters thus: “Antipas, son of the nobleman Philip… and worshipper of Jupiter, Zeus Olympios the Savior…[1]” and “May Jupiter, the most high God, look favorably on you.[2]” This is sharply contrasted by the greeting and farewell in his final letter, just prior to his martyrdom: “Antipas, citizen of Rome, lover of all things good and beneficial, and seeker for truth… grace be with you. [3]” and “I would ask that you join me in praying to the father of Jesus Christ with regard to these matters. May His will be done. Farewell.[4]” This is a masterful use of subtle details to convey the significance of the change that has been wrought in Antipas over the course of the book.
This is just one of many examples that could be brought to bear. Longnecker has successfully used the format of this book to its fullest potential, skillfully weaving his narrative of Antipas’ conversion into every minute detail of The Letters. This is to say nothing of Longnecker's thorough and careful historiography in the preface, postscript, and appendices. Longnecker’s merit as an author is surely vindicated in this work. The Lost Letters of Pergamum are an unexpected narrative triumph, and they deserve a place on the shelf in every biblical student's library.
[1] Bruce W. Longenecker, The Lost Letters of Pergamum: A Story from the New Testament World (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2016), p. 19.
[2] Ibid, p. 35.
[3] Ibid, p. 165.
[4] Ibid, p. 170.