1.1. The Outline of the Plot: 1.6–8

Of these verses, 1.8 is generally considered to be the pivotal verse for the outline of Acts,Footnote ¹ with various interpretations of 1.6–7. Tannehill, for example, argues that these verses are important in recognising the continuing problem created by Israel's rejection of the Gospel. He claims 1.6 is

Such a view depends heavily on unity with Luke's Gospel, and demands an interpretation of continuing hope for Israel throughout Acts,Footnote ³ and yet does not fully explain the literary purpose of the verse. Tannehill is right to observe that hopes for Israel are problematised significantly in Acts, but if 1.6 simply reminds the reader of hopes raised in Luke 1.32–33 and 2.32, it begs the question as to how readers made sense of it in the context of all the Jewish rejection and persecution that goes on throughout the Acts narrative.

Pervo, whose approach to the problem of unity is somewhat more agnostic, sees the disciples' question as merely a platform upon which to have Jesus make an important statement, outlining his view on the correct attitude to the problem of Israel before going on to map out the course of the evangelical mission.Footnote ⁴ But if the question asked in 1.6 is merely a vehicle for Jesus to outline his plans, it is an odd one. It seems a striking sort of question, because it impinges upon a central theme of Acts (and as far as is known, early Christianity in general)—that of the Jews and their salvation. So whether one interprets along the lines of Tannehill, who recognises the importance of this statement but does not explain how it coheres with the narrative, or of Pervo, who underplays the statement's importance to Acts and early Christianity but recognises it as having a literary function, 1.6–8 operates as two distinct entities—Jesus brushes off the question of Israel before addressing the universal mission.

Another scholar who has pursued the line of literary parallels for these verses is J. Bradley Chance, who compares Acts to Xenophon of Ephesus's Ephesian Tale, and observes that ‘divine prophecy’ in the beginning of each text plays an important role in the development of both plots. Xenophon's oracle runs as follows:

There is no need to go into the details of his analysis here, as his observations are unproblematic:

Chance compares this to Acts, and asks:

For Chance this represents a fundamental difference between Luke and Xenophon:

This conclusion, which implicitly privileges the importance of the history genre, suggests that because Luke is telling an historical story he has different aims and objectives to Xenophon, and these are discernible when we read the text because of particular narrative elements and the way they are used. Though there is certainly some merit in this view of the differences between fictional and historical literature, the problem of distinguishing between the two is rather more complex than Chance allows here.Footnote ⁸ In terms of genre, it is evident that no single device can ever be considered a decisive indicator—the danger of subversion or adoption by other genres is simply too high. It might be said, however, that a high correlation of certain devices indicates a particular generic dialogue—texts which Acts is best understood in the light of; and the detailed study of any given device contributes to the better understanding of generic norms that a text engages with, whether to conform, subvert, parody, or anything else. The oracular device in Acts offers one important example of this principle.

1.2. Question and Answer in Acts 1.6–8

Oracles in ancient literature usually take a Question and Answer format. Although this is not always the case,Footnote ⁹ a question put to a divine figure would definitely take the reader into a rich realm of literary codes and conventions. Fontenrose catalogues over 500 oracles given in ancient literature by the Delphic Oracle alone, using sources varying from historical to entirely fictional,Footnote ¹⁰ and it is certain that the contemporary reader of Acts possessed a contextual framework that the modern reader simply does not have. The question the Apostles ask, ‘Οἱ μὲν οὖν συνελθόντες ἠρώτων αὐτὸν λέγοντες· κύριε, εἰ ἐν τῷ χρόνῳ τούτῳ ἀποκαθιστάνεις τὴν βασιλείαν τῷ Ἰσραήλ’, is of a very particular sort: it is framed in a construction with two participles, and the verb ἐρωτάω is in the less common imperfect tense.Footnote ¹¹ The cumulative effect of these three elements is to make the question seem drawn out; the imperfect tense of the verb itself may often be better translated ‘to urge’ or ‘to beseech’, with an almost iterative sense that implies continued asking, than simply ‘to ask’. This is particularly noteworthy in the NT, where there are only about 13 uses of the imperfect tense of this verb, almost all of which are better translated in this way.Footnote ¹² When it comes to the Lukan corpus, there are 22 uses,Footnote ¹³ of which only 4 are in the imperfect, and all clearly take an imperfect-type meaning.

Other than the one which is our present object, the other three are:

Luke 7.36:

Acts 3.3:

And Acts 16.39:

All of these instances seem appropriate uses of the imperfect—the tense has an iterative value that suggests a question has not been asked just once, as would seem to be the case in the seven aorist instances. In Luke 7.36 the suggestion appears to be that Jesus went reluctantly with the Pharisee because of his persistence: the tension between Jesus and the Pharisees makes this quite plausible. In Luke 11.37 a Pharisee asks him a similar question in the simple present tense, but this construction is altogether different. The third time the imperfect is used by Luke it is placed in the mouth of a beggar—a situation in which an iterative value is quite natural. On the fourth occasion, the Philippians are asking Paul to leave, but are worried about having imprisoned a Roman citizen. In this context the imperfect, with its concomitant suggestion of reiteration, suggests that the people are not able to demand that he leaves, but are urging him from a position of weakness, rather like the beggar in Acts 3.3. Thus the use of this verb and this tense in Lukan narrative carries with it an iterative or at least conative value.

This verb combined with the two participles leads to an interpretation of the verse in which the Apostles are badgering Jesus, and he answers only because he has to: ‘Having gathered together they were asking him, saying…’

In this context, Jesus gives them a very strange answer. While the latter half of the response dictates the missionary theme of the book, and also explains large parts of the plot structure, it must be noted that the first part of the answer, ‘εἶπεν δὲ πρὸς αὐτούς· οὐχ ὑμῶν ἐστιν γνῶναι χρόνους ἢ καιροὺς οὓς ὁ πατὴρ ἔθετο ἐν τῇ ἰδίᾳ ἐξουσίᾳ’, is far more esoteric and ambiguous. Furthermore, its position—syntactically connected to what is widely considered the key verse for outlining the direction of the narrative—suggests that it requires close attention.

The reluctance suggested by the construction of 1.6 in the context of oracular literature goes some way to explaining the reply: this is not a piece of advice or an instruction given by Jesus, but an ambiguous response to a persistent question, and this warns the reader not to accept the oracle at face value. The context—the question as to the restoration of Israel—suggests the interpretation ‘you will be my witnesses to the Jews in Judaea, Samaria, and the whole Diaspora’. But what it explicitly says amounts merely to a geographical reference, and could include or exclude any nation or group.

Tannehill sees the response as entirely unambiguous. This interpretation is almost inevitable given his strong view of the unity of Luke–Acts: ‘…(Luke 24.49; Acts 1.4, 8); the universal scope of the mission, which begins in the Jewish homeland and reaches out to the entire world (Luke 24.47; Acts 1.8)’.Footnote ¹⁴ It is by reading Acts through Luke that he sees ‘ἕως ἐσχάτου τῆς γῆς’ as equivalent to ‘εἰς πάντα τὰ ἔθνη, ἀρξάμενοι ἀπὸ Ἰερουσαλήμ’, which in semantic terms is always a problematic assumption. The Gospel reference is certainly inclusive, but Acts is more ambiguous at this point—either a Diasporic or a non-Diasporic interpretation is possible.

1.3. The Trouble with the Answer

Pervo and Haenchen also agree that Acts 1.8b is universal in scope, as does Parsons.Footnote ¹⁵ None of these scholars sees any ambiguity in Jesus' response. And if scholars can so easily conclude that this outline explicitly includes the mission to the Gentiles, one might reasonably expect the Apostles to have understood it similarly, but this is not the case. The vision in Acts 10 seems to cause Peter, who was ostensibly in attendance when Jesus told them to tell the Gentiles the good news, considerable confusion. He in turn has to work hard to explain the events of Acts 10 to the Church elders.

Very little is made of this discrepancy between the explicit outlining of a universal mission by Jesus in 1.8, and the confusion of first Peter and then the Jerusalem church in Acts 10. Pervo thinks the vision refers directly to the dietary requirements of believers,Footnote ¹⁶ though this seems to be dispelled by Peter himself in 10.28 when he interprets ‘cleanliness’ as referring to people rather than to food—suggesting at least a metonymic, if not entirely metaphoric, interpretation. Neither Parsons nor Haenchen discuss the contradiction at all, and yet there is clearly an issue: if in Acts 1 the mission is to include Gentiles, why does God have to reiterate this so firmly in Acts 10, and why does Peter have to explain himself to the Church? The simplest explanation is that nobody expected this inclusion, and the consensus was that newcomers had to become ritually clean in the traditional sense. If the reader had, up this point, made that assumption, what occurs here would make sense. Acts 11.19 even goes so far as to suggest something of this sort: ‘Οἱ μὲν οὖν διασπαρέντες ἀπὸ τῆς θλίψεως τῆς γενομένης ἐπὶ Στεφάνῳ διῆλθον ἕως Φοινίκης καὶ Κύπρου καὶ Ἀντιοχείας μηδενὶ λαλοῦντες τὸν λόγον εἰ μὴ μόνον Ἰουδαίοις’.

All of this suggests that the answer Jesus gives is not as clear as has been thought. When one considers the number of oracles with ambiguous answers in ancient literature,Footnote ¹⁷ the contemporary reader would certainly be able to decode the conventions that surround this literary device.

The evasive answer to the question ‘is this the time for the restoration of the Kingdom to Israel?’, has a (contextually) natural and a (contextually) less likely, but syntactically equally viable interpretation. The reader knows these must exist, and the suspense is created by wondering what the true meaning of the oracle will be and what trouble will be caused by the Apostles' misinterpretation.

The device disturbs the linear course of the narrative to generate interest—the implied reader knows there is a dissonance between the outcome projected by the oracle and the outcome expected by the Apostles, and possibly even as known in real-world history. The reader uses the contextual framework of oracular literature to begin to configure the narrative, and thus to interpret it.

For the sake of convenience let us label the two interpretations of the oracle as follows:

Interpretation 1: The ostensible interpretation, in which the Apostles are witnesses to the Diaspora all over the world.

Interpretation 2: The secret, correct interpretation, in which the Apostles are witnesses all over the world, but Jewish rejection will prevent the restoration of the Kingdom.

After receiving the oracle and being convinced of the first interpretation, the Apostles receive the Holy Spirit and begin to preach. Interpretation 1 looks sound. This is what one expects and is part of a tradition in which the recipient of the oracle obeys its advice and acts accordingly. It is the law of narrative, however, that such behaviour will backfire; in fact whenever it appears that everything is going well and nothing untoward seems likely to occur, especially early in a narrative, we know that there will be trouble.Footnote ¹⁸ The projected outcome is on course even though the reader is aware it cannot come about—a juxtaposition that naturally evokes excitement. The Apostles enjoy success in Jerusalem and a big increase in numbers. The resistance of the Jews gradually increases, until eventually Stephen is martyred in Acts 7. This persecution at the hands of the Jews forces a re-evaluation of the oracle, the key to which is evident:

This verse shows that the message has now spread not just further in Judaea, but also into SamariaFootnote ¹⁹—and this happens precisely because of Jewish resistance. The statement is followed some time later by Peter in 12.11: ‘νῦν οἶδα ἀληθῶς ὅτι ἐξαπέστειλεν [ὁ] κύριος τὸν ἄγγελον αὐτοῦ καὶ ἐξείλατό με ἐκ χειρὸς Ἡρῴδου καὶ πάσης τῆς προσδοκίας τοῦ λαοῦ τῶν Ἰουδαίων’. These words come at the end point of the Judaea mission, and ‘…καὶ πάσης τῆς προσδοκίας τοῦ λαοῦ τῶν Ἰουδαίων’ formally closes it. The Samarian portion of the mission began with Stephen's stoning, and the Judean portion ends with this final persecution of Peter, in which he implicates the Jews.

1.4. Jewish Mission: Ups and Downs

The narrative is structured in such a way that the Jewish mission is bound to fail. But in the first half of Acts, where the oracular response is still understood to be working itself out directly through Interpretation 1, the impression of successful preaching to the Jews is initially strong. Gerhard Krodel, for example, states that the

This restoration, however, does not occur in the narrative of Acts; a fact that makes one wonder as to why it is implied by this scene. Krodel is not incorrect in theorising that the suggestion of restoration is present, but rather in failing to understand that the suggestion is part of a refracted authorial intention to suggest that the plot is following Interpretation 1, while planning already to subvert it. If the course charted by Interpretation 1 was followed to its completion, the narrative would be poor reading.

Up until Acts 10 the Apostles are under the impression that the oracular response was clear, that the whole Diaspora will be restored to Israel, and that it is their task to spread the good news to all Jews, as Acts 11.19 explicitly states. Non-fulfilment seems a real possibility at the point of Stephen's martyrdom, but here we see that the disciples had continued to preach to Jews wherever they found themselves. The interpretative possibilities therefore remain open until Acts 10, where the vision to Peter represents a significant plot-twist, and the reader is finally given a tangible sign of movement toward Interpretation 2.

Lawrence Wills, discussing the depiction of the Jews in Acts, argues that the consistent pattern of evangelism in the latter half of the narrative is:

He supports this hypothesis with the fact that the rare instances of Gentile resistance (16.11–40; 17.18–18.1; 19.24–20.1) do not directly lead to new missionary success.Footnote ²² The narratives of Gentile resistance are also longer (excluding speeches), and the trouble on both occasions is attributed to that most base of human motives, greed.Footnote ²³ The salient point is that Gentile resistance is explained at length, while Jewish resistance is seldom explained in the latter half of Acts.

What Wills argues is in effect that the portrayal of Jewish resistance serves mostly to demonstrate that through divine providence the continued rejection of the Jews continually causes success and expansion for the mission to the Gentiles. He observes:

Wills's article suggests that there is a continuing plot structure in which the Apostles preach to the Jews, but failure in that mission leads directly to success among the Gentiles. This implies that the oracle itself, in encouraging the Apostles to believe that the restoration of the Kingdom of Israel is imminent, and therefore to preach to the Jews, is subtly manipulating the Apostles into unknowingly furthering the Divine intention.

It is worth noting that Jewish rejection of God's message is not solely a Christian ideological construct, but one with foundation among the Jews of the period themselves. David Moessner discusses this in connection with the work of O. H. Steck, and reaches some interesting conclusions for Acts that are worth quoting in full here:

Whether or not Steck's work can be accepted uncritically, the fact that Jewish history can be seen as presenting itself in this way suggests that this narrative construction sits within a specific cultural context. The rhetoric of Acts is one that plays upon Jewish self-perception, and implies that the rejection of Jesus is a national catastrophe that will bring about their destruction. It is even possible that the narrative implies that the destruction of Jerusalem itself was the consequence of this rejection.

2.1. Arbiter of the Divine Will

Paul's role in Acts is very interesting when viewed through the lens of this device. The reader has known from 9.15 that he will be God's chosen instrument to both Gentiles and Jews: ‘εἶπεν δὲ πρὸς αὐτὸν ὁ κύριος· πορεύου, ὅτι σκεῦος ἐκλογῆς ἐστίν μοι οὗτος τοῦ βαστάσαι τὸ ὄνομά μου ἐνώπιον ἐθνῶν τε καὶ βασιλέων υἱῶν τε Ἰσραήλ’. But since this remark is made to Ananias rather than Paul, the reader has no idea as to whether he knows of his divinely ordained role until Acts 22.15: ‘ἔσῃ μάρτυς αὐτῷ πρὸς πάντας ἀνθρώπους ὧν ἑώρακας καὶ ἤκουσας’, by which time any suspense is long gone. God's comment to Ananias is also interesting in that it says nothing of success or failure in either the Jewish or Gentile mission, and yet manages to sound rather triumphal—a triumphalism that centres around Paul rather than around the results of any particular event.

In a sense, Paul stands outside of the oracular framework: he was not present for the oracle, and thus never misinterprets it. Yet he is the first to instigate Interpretation 2. He also enjoys a knowledge that even the reader does not always share (he knows his role is to the Gentiles but the reader is left wondering whether this is the case). The reader does not have all the available information, and this allows the narrative to retain interest while adding depth to characterisation.Footnote ²⁶ Luke utilises the technique in order to entertain, but also because he wants Paul to be the centre of readerly interest.

Paul brings about the mission to the ends of the earth but is quite clearly—one might almost say deliberately—not the instigator of either Gentile conversion or Gentile mission. As is seen above, Peter converts Cornelius before Paul has had any involvement with converting non-Jews. In Acts 11, Luke carefully—even awkwardly—constructs the narrative to ensure that Paul is not involved with the first large-scale Gentile mission, which is instigated by men from ‘Cyprus and Cyrene’ (11.20), and is approved by Barnabas (11.23), and even by God (11.21). Barnabas then goes to Tarsus, finds Saul, and brings him back to Antioch, from where the first ‘missionary journey’ begins.

Even then, however, Paul's involvement is carefully managed. Paul and Barnabas are set aside by God: ‘ἀφορίσατε δή μοι τὸν Βαρναβᾶν καὶ Σαῦλον εἰς τὸ ἔργον ὃ προσκέκλημαι αὐτούς’, but He does not reveal his intention in terms of either Jews or Gentiles. Paul and Barnabas then go and preach in the synagogue at Pisidian Antioch—which implies that they interpret the ‘work’ as evangelism to the Jews.

The scene at Pisidian Antioch builds up very carefully. One notes that while Luke appears to have mentioned Gentiles in this section, both of these references were qualified: the first is used by Paul in 13.16: ‘ἄνδρες Ἰσραηλῖται καὶ οἱ φοβούμενοι τὸν θεόν, ἀκούσατε’. The second is 13.43: ‘ἠκολούθησαν πολλοὶ τῶν Ἰουδαίων καὶ τῶν σεβομένων προσηλύτων τῷ Παύλῳ καὶ τῷ Βαρναβᾷ’. The word ‘ἔθνη’ is carefully circumnavigated. It is only after considerable trouble from the Jews that Paul declares in 13.46–47:

This of course opens the third phase of the oracle by using the same words as Jesus himself: something that Peter did not do in his interaction with Cornelius, who resided in Samaria, and was therefore representative of the second rather than the third stage of the oracle.

So Paul is innocent of any allegation of instigating the Gentile mission, but instead is awarded credit for bringing about the final stage of the prophecy, despite his being absent when it was delivered.

2.2. A Final Twist

These early twists—the rejection in Jerusalem and the expansion to Gentiles—are not the most significant. The irony of the narrative is that the Apostles accomplish the opposite of what they wish to happen, precisely by trying to bring it about, yet in perfect fulfilment of the oracle—the sort of reversal that Marianne Palmer Bonz considers important to Epic.Footnote ²⁷

Jewish rejection of the message continues almost entirely unabated, and eventually, after being an instrument for pushing Paul and the mission all over the Mediterranean basin, it produces a final, bitter-sweet twist (Acts 28.28): ‘Γνωστὸν οὖν ἔστω ὑμῖν, ὅτι τοῖς ἔθνεσιν ἀπεστάλη τὸ σωτήριον τοῦ θεοῦ, αὐτοὶ καὶ ἀκούσονται.’

The καὶ is semantically ambiguous and makes both ‘they also will listen’ and ‘and they will listen’ possible. But the context favours the latter—the Isaiah prophecy states quite plainly that the Jews are not listening, so Paul declares his intention to take his message to the Gentiles, because they will listen.Footnote ²⁸ This twist represents the climax, and effectively declares the end of the Jewish mission. The reader has been forced to reassess again, and this time in a way that may genuinely surprise her—it is a brilliant ending: the oracle is fully understood at last, and it had never included the Jews. It does not nullify the promise to restore the Kingdom to Israel, but it has cancelled the Apostles' obligation to try to bring that about: when they did try, they only brought about the opposite. It is Paul who makes this final decision on Jewish mission, but then, he has always had the Divine prerogative in mind in a way that the Apostles did not.

2.3. The Third Attempt

Not that Paul's decision is made lightly. An interesting element that must be considered here is that Paul's declaration in Rome is actually the third of its sort. The first (13.46–47) is discussed above; the other occurs at 18.6:

Dibelius makes the astute observation that the three statements take place in Asia Minor, Greece, and Rome, and as such represent each of the chief regions of the Pauline mission.Footnote ²⁹ Rome, then, is the final region, and equates to the last chance for the Jews to believe the Gospel. Tannehill has argued, ‘nothing prevents us from understanding the announcement in 28.28 as applying to Rome and leaving open the possibility of preaching to Jews everywhere’,Footnote ³⁰ but there is nowhere left to preach; at least, not in a narrative sense. In each region, Paul has tried, has failed, and has pronounced his intention to go the Gentiles instead. Tannehill does note from Acts 28.22 that ‘it is recognized that such resistance is appearing everywhere’.Footnote ³¹ The climactic ending does gain special significance from the fact of its happening in Rome, but also from the fact that the last of the three great doors has closed. Paul persists in Jewish mission until there were no other options, and then, with scriptural support, accepts the inevitable as God's will.

3.1. Legendary/Historical Oracles

The most obvious parallel in oracular literature is that of Oedipus, who asks the oracle about the identity of his parents and is told ‘Do not go home, or you will kill your father and marry your mother’. Oedipus takes the oracle's advice, not realising that home is in reality Thebes, not Corinth, because his parents are actually Jocasta and Laius, a fact the oracle does not reveal. This leads to him unknowingly killing his father, before he solves the riddle of the sphinx and is given his mother as wife. In this example the oracle not only governs the plot of various plays by Aeschylus and Sophocles, but also produces much of the meaning found in these great works. The prophecy to Jocasta that leads to Oedipus's adoption by the king and queen of Corinth in the first instance functions in a very similar fashion.

Another well-known example is that of Croesus king of Lydia in Herodotus, in which the king asks whether he should attack Persia, and the response is ‘if you attack Persia you will destroy a great nation’.Footnote ³² That nation was of course Lydia, an interpretation that Croesus does not consider until it is too late.

These oracles, however, are given with the motive of divine retribution against ancestors,Footnote ³³ and while this is an important element of the ambiguous oracle, it is not one that can be explored in relation to the Jews in anything other than a speculative way. In any case, the oracles do not always have this underlying motive. Examples include:

• • The oracle to Kylon that he must attack Athens at ‘Zeus's greatest festival’. He misinterprets the festival and fails in his bid to take over the city.Footnote ³⁴

• • The Heraklids ask how they might conquer the Peloponnesos, and are told they will be given victory if they go through the narrows. They misinterpret the oracle, attack through the wrong narrows, and are defeated.Footnote ³⁵ Similarly, they enquire as to when they should return from Marathon, and are told to wait for the third harvest. They misinterpret this to mean the third year rather than the third generation, and suffer defeat again.

• • Philip of Macedon asks how he might vanquish the Persians, and is told: ‘Wreathed is the Bull. All is done. There is also the one who will smite him’. Philip assumes this is favourable to him, with Persia being the Bull. Instead, the oracle actually refers to Philip's assassination at a sacrificial ritual.Footnote ³⁶

These three examples also illustrate that most ambiguous responses are preserved in legendary or quasi-historical literature, with fictional responses comprising only 15 of Fontenrose's catalogue of 500. Most of these responses are reported, or at least cited, in a way very different from the manner that I am claiming lies behind Acts. On the other hand, Fontenrose argues that there are no reliable historical examples of ambiguous oracular responses, and that the ambiguous response is by its nature associated with myth and legend. What all of this tells us is that the literary culture surrounding oracles does appear to differentiate between the strictly historical reporting of mundane oracles and the more literary/legendary ambiguous responses of the sort used in Acts. It leaves open the question as to whether there was an identifiable framework by which the reader of Acts could decode the text.

There is also one example which offers an insight from contemporary literature—that of Josephus, who in War 6.312–313, says:

Josephus claims that it was an oracle in their own scriptures (probably Num 24.17–19) that gave the Jews the confidence to fight, and thus led them to their disastrous fate. Josephus writes history, and like Herodotus in the Croesus episode, does not attempt to build suspense in his narrative.Footnote ³⁷ Nonetheless, the idea of the ambiguous oracle is definitely present.

3.2. Literary Oracles

For readers of the OT the most obvious example of a device of this sort is the vision of Joseph. Joseph tells his brothers the dream he has had, and their attempting to prevent its fulfilment actually brings it to fruition. The vision or dream is one of many manifestations of this device. The vow in the story of Jephthah's daughter in Judges 11 is another.

As well as the obvious examples from the Greek Epics, the device is preserved in the more contemporary genre of the novels. The example in Xenophon's Ephesiaca is not the most subtle, though it is used as an ambiguous oracle, in the sense that misinterpretation leads to the development of the plot. The device also occurs in Heliodorus 1.31:

Thyamis's misinterpretation governs the development of the plot for some time to come, but does not govern the entire plot—there is, one finds in novels, a great variety in the significance of various oracles. For example, Achilles Tatius has Clitipho dream:

This dream does not appear to give enough information to direct the plot in specific terms, and neither does Clitipho, though filled with apprehension by the vision, use it explicitly as a guide to future actions. Nonetheless it serves to add tension to the immediate narrative, and has obvious implications that are resonant until the final reuniting of the lovers.

The sophistic novels make use of another device that directs the plot from beginning to end; the ekphrasis, in which the interpretation of a picture (in the two extant examples, Longus and Achilles Tatius) provides a narrative framework. In Achilles Tatius, the ekphrasis creates a bivalent interpretative framework for the behaviour of Leucippe:

The sophistic style may well have included such devices normatively within the genre, and this can be seen as a development arising from the dialogue of second sophistic intellectual culture and the literary conventions pre-existing in the period regarding oracles and a proleptic plot-structure.