Acts is a book of the New Testament that describes the activities of Jesus’ apostles, particularly Peter and Paul. The book is written by a single author, and it emphasizes the unity of the apostles. This unity is shown through the endorsement of Paul’s mission by the leaders of the Jerusalem church, including Peter and James. The author of Acts also smooths over the historical differences between the apostles, such as the falling out between Peter and Paul in Antioch. Acts is also an encomium on Paul, celebrating his divine conversion and commission, miraculous powers, and successful preaching and teaching. Some have argued that Acts is a forgery because of its emphasis on unity and its smoothing over of historical differences.

The book of Acts is considered a literary forgery because the author claims to be someone other than who he really is in order to authorize his writing. The book is anonymous and does not explicitly claim to be written by a well-known person, but uses embedding devices, such as first-person narratives, without differentiating between the first person and the author. This causes the reader to assume that the person speaking in the first person is the writer of the account, providing an unimpeachable authority for the book. The author of the book of Acts is not the same person as the speaker in the first person, making the book a non-pseudepigraphic forgery.

The book of Acts is anonymous, but its author makes a false authorial claim through the use of first-person narrative, known as “we-passages.” These passages occur on four occasions and involve the author narrating his travels with Paul. However, it cannot be argued that first-person narrative is simply the author’s preferred technique for travelogues, given the third-person narratives in other parts of the book. The author is making a back reference to an earlier passage, where he introduces his narrative in the first-person singular, and thereby claims to be a participant in the events he narrates. This serves to authenticate his narrative claims, even though many of these claims can be shown to be false, as well as his assertion to have been an eyewitness to Paul’s life and preaching.

The book of Acts uses “we-passages” to shift from third- to first-person plural narrative, where the author implies that he was a traveling companion of Paul. This is an example of a non-pseudepigraphic forgery, in which an author claims to be someone other than who he is without using a false name. The sudden and unexplained disappearance of the first-person pronoun in the we-passages suggests that it was used selectively to place the author in the company of Paul and authenticate his account. This means that the book of Acts is a forgery, as the author is making a false authorial claim.

Various Solutions and Their Problems

1. The Author of Acts Was a Companion of Paul on Some of His Travels

1. 2. The Author Used a Source for These Passages
2. The authorship of the book of Acts has been a topic of much debate among scholars. Many have suggested that the book is not a single, coherent narrative written by a single author, but rather a collection of stories and accounts written by multiple authors. Some have even gone so far as to suggest that the book is a forgery, with the author claiming to be someone other than who they really were in order to give their writing more authority. However, there is much evidence to suggest that the book of Acts is a single narrative written by a single author. The key piece of evidence for this is the so-called “we-passages” in which the author shifts from third- to first-person plural narrative. These passages, which occur on four occasions, suggest that the author was a participant in Paul’s mission and an eyewitness to some of the events that are described in the book. Furthermore, the stylistic unity of the passages with the rest of the book of Acts shows that whoever wrote the rest of the narrative also wrote the we-passages.

1. 3. The Use of First-Person Accounts in Narratives of Sea-Travel
2. A literary forgery is a text that makes a false authorial claim. In the context of Christian forgeries, this often involves an author claiming to be someone else in order to lend authority to their writing. The book of Acts is one such example of a forgery, in which the author claims to have been a traveling companion of Paul without ever explicitly naming themselves. This is achieved through the use of “we-passages” in which the author shifts from third-person to first-person plural narrative. The sudden and unexplained beginnings and endings of these passages suggests that the first-person pronoun was used selectively to place the author in the company of Paul, thereby authenticating their account. This false authorial claim functions to authorize the book as an eyewitness account, even though many of its claims can be shown to be false.

1. 4. The Author Is Making a False Claim to Have Been an Eyewitness
2. The author of the Acts of the Apostles is believed by many scholars to have used first-person pronouns in the text in order to claim to have been an eyewitness to some of the events described in the book. These first-person passages, known as “we-passages,” occur on four occasions and include first-person-plural travel narratives with Paul. Scholars have suggested several explanations for the use of first-person pronouns in the text, including the idea that the author was following a literary convention, that the passages were written by an eyewitness, or that they were based on a written document. However, these theories have been criticized for not adequately explaining the sudden and unexplained beginnings and endings of the we-passages. It has been suggested that the best explanation for these passages is that the author used the first-person pronoun selectively in order to place himself in the company of Paul, thereby authenticating his account. This view is supported by the fact that the use of first-person pronouns was common in ancient texts in order to provide authority for the account.

The use of first-person pronouns in ancient texts, both Christian and non-Christian, was often used to provide authority for the account being narrated. This is seen in texts such as John 21:24, 1 Corinthians 15:8, 2 Corinthians 12:2, 2 Peter 1:16-19, the Gospel of Peter, the Apocalypse of Peter, the Coptic Apocalypse of Peter, and the Apocryphon of John. In each of these texts, the first-person narrator is an eyewitness to the events being described, and their use of the first-person pronoun serves to validate their accounts as coming from someone who was there and would know the truth of what happened. This was particularly important in the context of ancient historiography, where writers who were not eyewitnesses were often criticized for their lack of personal experience and the errors and misstatements that resulted from it.

The first-person narrative is a literary device used by ancient authors to authenticate the accounts they are narrating. In many cases, the use of first-person narration is meant to lend credibility to the accounts by suggesting that the author was an eyewitness to the events they are describing. This technique was common in ancient writings, and can be seen in a variety of texts, including the New Testament and other religious writings. In the case of the we-passages in the book of Acts, it is believed that the use of first-person narration was meant to suggest that the author was an eyewitness to the events described, even though this was not the case. This false authorial claim makes the book of Acts a forgery.

The History of “Our” Reception

The we-passages in Acts were intended to establish the author of the book as an eyewitness to the events described in the book. This was a common practice in ancient literature, and the we-passages in Acts were understood by ancient readers as evidence of the author’s firsthand knowledge. The author’s claim to be an eyewitness allowed him to present his account as accurate and trustworthy. This view is supported by the way in which Acts was read and understood by early Christian writers such as Irenaeus, Clement of Alexandria, and Tertullian, who all accepted the tradition that the author was a companion of Paul and an eyewitness to the events described in the book. Modern scholars such as D. Bock, J. Fitzmyer, J. Jervell, C. K. Barrett, and C.-J. Thornton also agree that the we-passages in Acts are intended to establish the author as an eyewitness.

There was a 10 year study (Westar Institute) by the world’s top “Acts” scholars and classicists (Joseph Tyson, Richard pervo, Patterson, Litwa, McDonald, crossan etc.) and And they concluded that “Acts of the Apostles” is almost totally fiction. https://westarinstitute.org/seminars/seminar-on-the-acts-of-the-apostles

When examining Luke and Acts, the first question that arises is whether they were written by the same person, as indicated in the prefaces. “The extensive linguistic and theological agreements and cross-references between the Gospel of Luke and the Acts indicate that both works derive from the same author,” Udo Schnelle writes, “with the agreement of nearly all scholars” (The History and Theology of the New Testament Writings, page 259). This suggests that theories like John Knox’s that Marcion only knew Luke and not Acts and that Acts was an anti-Marcionite play written in the middle of the second century are implausible.

The next higher critical question is, if Luke and Acts were written by the same person, who was that person? The oldest manuscript with the start of the gospel, Papyrus Bodmer XIV (ca. 200 CE), proclaims that it is the euangelion kata Loukan, the Gospel according to Luke. This attestation probably does not stem from reading Irenaeus (Adv. haer. 3.1.1) or Tertullian (Adv. Marcionem 4.2.2), nor Clement of Alexandria (Paedagogus 2.1.15 and Stromata 5.12.82), who also ascribe the third Gospel to one called Luke. Indeed, considering that the immediate recipient of Luke is mentioned in the preface, and given that the author of the third Gospel is aware that many other accounts have been drawn up before him, it is entirely probable that the author had indicated his name on the autograph. (The “most excellent Theophilus” mentioned in the preface of Luke is most likely his patron, as seen in the similar references to “most excellent X” in the prefaces to the De libris propriis liber of Galenus, the De antiquis oratoribus of Dionysius Halicarnassensis, the Scriptor De Divinatione of Melampus, the Peri ton kata antipatheian kai sumpatheian of Nepualius, and both Josephi vita and Contra Apionem of Josephus.) This Luke has traditionally been identified as the one named in Philemon 24 as a co-worker of Paul. Does the internal evidence support the idea that the author of Luke-Acts had known Saul of Tarsus?
The “we passages” found in 16:10-17, 20:5-15, 21:1-18, and 27:1-28:16 are the most prominent of the features of Luke-Acts that have always been considered to support the idea that the author knew Paul. “We set sail from Troas, making a straight run for Samothrace, and on the next day to Neapolis, and from there to Philippi, a leading city in that district of Macedonia and a Roman colony,” for instance, is what is written in Acts 16:10-17. That city was home to us for some time… We met a slave girl with an oracular spirit on our way to the place of prayer. Through her fortune-telling, she used to make a lot of money for her owners. “These people are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation,” she shouted as she began to follow Paul and us. Paul cast her out and was jailed for his troubles. As a result of his prayer, Paul was saved, and he went on to Thessalonica, Beroea, and Athens. Through Ephesus, Paul set sail for Syria, arrived in Caesarea, and then traveled to Antioch. Paul traveled through Galatia and Phrygia before arriving in Asia Minor at Ephesus, where Apollos was baptizing John. The first person narrative resumes following an argument with the silversmiths in Ephesus as follows: After the commotion subsided, Paul summoned the disciples, thanked them for their support, and then began his journey toward Macedonia. He encouraged them in numerous ways as he traveled through those regions. After that, he made his way to Greece, where he remained for three months. However, when the Jews devised a scheme against him just as he was about to set sail for Syria, he decided to return via Macedonia.
He was accompanied by Sopater, the Beroean son of Pyrrhus; Timothy; Timothy from Derbe; Timothy from Asia; Aristarchus and Secundus from Thessalonica; Timothy from Derbe; and Tychicus and Trophimus from Asia, who went ahead and waited for us at Troas. After the feast of Unleavened Bread, we set sail from Philippi and returned five days later to Troas, where we stayed for a week. Paul spoke to them on the first day of the week when we gathered to break bread because he was leaving that day, and he continued speaking until midnight. As Paul had requested, as he was traveling by land, we advanced to the ship and set sail for Assos, where we would board Paul. We loaded him onto the ship and continued on to Mitylene after he met us in Assos. The following day, we set sail and reached a point on Chios. The next day, we reached Samos, and the next day, we reached Miletus. Paul had made the decision to sail past Ephesus in order to avoid losing time in Asia because he wanted to get to Jerusalem as soon as possible for the day of Pentecost. Acts 20:1–16) Pay attention to the first passage’s reference to “Paul and us,” which distinguishes the “we” who traveled by sea to Assos from Paul, who traveled by land.
Also, notice that the phrase “we sailed from Philippi” begins in the second passage and ends at Philippi.> I am persuaded by this casual and objective dovetailing that the author of Acts was among those who were left behind at Philippi and joined Paul to sail later from there. The distinction between Paul and “us” casts doubt on the hypothesis that the first-person perspective in these passages is some kind of literary device that takes Paul’s perspective and has no precedent in ancient literature. For instance, it would increase the drama of Paul’s adventure or strengthen Paul’s connection to the group. The alternative is that Acts’ author was erroneously claiming to be Paul’s companion. This raises the question of why the author made this claim in such a subtle manner rather than making the point clear to the reader, as apocryphal authors frequently do. Even though this is understandable if the author’s participation was sporadic, it also leaves us wondering why the false claim to participation is limited to a few passages and leaves Paul alone for the majority of the narrative. The majority of arguments are truly inconclusive regarding Acts’ authorship. In his dissertation, “The Style and Literary Method of Luke,” H. J. Cadbury deflated the thesis that Luke-Acts’ vocabulary is unique to a physician (the saying goes, “Cadbury earned his doctorate by depriving Luke of his!”). The response that the author, not Luke, had sailed that way at a later time or appropriated a sailor’s account of the same can be given to the argument that the final voyage to Rome is an especially accurate depiction of sea travel. The student’s deviation from a storied tradition is merely the cause of the division that exists between Luke’s and Paul’s theology. If the author of Luke-Acts did not own any copies of Paul’s letters to which he could refer, the disagreements noted between the narrative of Acts and the letters (primarily Galatians) can frequently be reconciled. In any case, these disagreements are explained. After all, it is highly unlikely that Paul would send a letter to a church and then to all of his former companions. Actually, Luke-Acts’ author’s ignorance of Paul’s letters indicates that they were written before ca. 100, at which point these letters were compiled, published, and made saints.

So we come upon the third question of higher criticism, the date of Luke-Acts. It is sometimes put forward that the Gospel of Luke may be as early as 62 CE because Acts does not narrate the martyrdom of Paul. The ending of Acts is an old problem that has prompted many theories. Luke Timothy Johnson writes (The Acts of the Apostles, pp. 474-476):

As early as the Muratorian Canon (late second century), an explanation for Luke’s incompleteness at this part of the story seemed caled for, and the compiler of that canonical list explained that Luke did not tell of the martyrdom of Peter or Paul’s subsequent journey to the West, because he wanted to relate only those things that had occurred in his presence! Other “explanations” of greater or lesser probability have not been lacking: that Luke finished this volume before Paul’s case came to its conclusion–and necessarily, if it was intended to present his case! Alternatively, that Luke died before he could finish this volume, or before he could undertake still a third volume that he contemplated. This last theory has recently taken on new life in the proposal that the Pastoral Letters are written by Luke as the third volume of Luke-Acts.

Such theories are demanded only if Luke is regarded as the sort of historian whose main purpose is factual completeness and accuracy. In fact, however, we have seen that everywhere Luke’s account is selected and shaped to suit his apologetic interests, not in defiance of but in conformity to ancient standards of historiography. The questions are generated as well by the presumption that it is Paul’s fate which most concerns Luke, and a failure to clearly indicate his end demands an explanation. But in fact, we have seen that Luke’s argument involves far more than Paul’s personal destiny. As important as Paul is to Luke and as dominant as he has been in the second half of Acts, he remains for Luke ultimately only another in a series of prophetic figures through whom God’s message of salvation is brought to the people.
It is through attention to Luke’s overall narrative interests that we are best able to appreciate this ending not as the result of historical happenstance or editorial ineptitude, but as a deliberately and effectively crafted conclusion to a substantial apologetic argument. Even concerning Paul’s fate, Luke has left us with no mystery. By this time, the reader must appreciate that all prophecies spoken in the narrative will reach fulfillment–even if their fulfillment is not recounted in the narrative itself! Thus, the reader knows on the basis of authoritative prophecy that Paul made his defense before Caesar (27:24), and knows further that Paul died as a witness to “the good news of the gift of God” (20:24) because of the prophecies the narrative itself contains to that effect (20:22-23, 29, 38; 21:10-14). But the fact that Luke does not find it necessary to tell us these events is a most important clue as to how we should read the conclusion of his work: the point is not the fate of Paul, but the fidelity of God.

So when Paul arrives in Rome his first step is to invite the Jewish leaders to his presence. In his initial meeting with them, Paul makes clear not only his innocence of any charges worthy of death, but more importantly, his complete lack of animus against Judaism. He has not come as one bearing “a charge against my nation” (28:19). Indeed, his desire to speak at length with them has nothing to do with his own fate but with his message, which concerns “the hope of Israel” (28:20). Even after his repeated rejections by his fellow Jews which caused him to turn to the Gentiles (13:46-47; 18:6), even after their seeking to kill him in Jerusalem by treachery (23:12-15), and cooptation of the Roman system (25:1-5), Paul still seeks out his own people. The reason is not his personal heroism but God’s fidelity to the promises. They have still another chance to respond.
The initial reaction to the Jewish leaders is carefully neutral. They have heard bad things about “this sect” but have had no instructions concerning Paul himself. They are therefore willing to hold a second and more formal meeting. The effort Paul expends in that second conference is extraordinary: from morning to evening he argues the case for Jesus. As we would expect, he bases his appeal on “the Law and the Prophets” (28:23). The response is mixed. Some of the Jewish leaders are positively inclined, some are disbelieving (28:24). It is difficult to assess accurately what Luke intends the reader to understand by this: do we have another instance of the “divided people of God,” so that even among the Jewish leaders there is a realization of the restored people? Perhaps, but the fact that they all leave while “disagreeing with each other” (28:25) holds out only minimal hope.

The final word spoken to the Jewish leaders is therefore one of rejection, but it is a rejection that they have taken upon themselves. Luke now has Paul stand truly as a prophet, speaking against the people of Israel as the prophets of old had done. Luke had not made full use of the Isaiah 6:9-10 passage in his Gospel, for that was the time of the first visitation of the prophet, and the rejection of that prophet was mitigated by the “ignorance” of the people.
It has been the argument of the narrative of Acts that God did not stop making the offer of salvation to Israel through the proclamation of the raised Prophet Jesus. Only now, after so many attempts at persuading this people, is it time to employ this most chilling prophecy, spoken first of the ancient people but now “fulfilled” in the events of Luke’s story. Paul has “gone to this people” and spoken the Word. And they have neither heard, nor seen, nor understood. But as the LXX version of the text makes clear, the blame is not God’s nor is it the prophet’s. The message itself does not deafen, or blind, or stun. It is because the people have grown obtuse that they do not perceive in the message about Jesus the realization of their own most authentic “hope.”
For the final time, therefore, Paul announces a turn to the Gentiles with a ringing affirmation: the salvation from God has been sent to them, and they will listen! Luke’s readers recognize this as the prophecy that has indeed taken place “among us” (Luke 1:1), and which has generated the question that made the writing of this narrative necessary in the first place: how did the good news reach the Gentiles, and did the rejection of it by the Jews mean that God failed in his fidelity to them? Luke’s answer is contained in the entire narrative up to this point. In every way, God has proven faithful; not his prophetic word and power, but the blindness of the people has lead to their self-willed exclusion from the messianic blessings.

The final sight Luke gives us of Paul is, in this reading, entirely satisfactory. Absolutely nothing hinges on the success or failure of Paul’s defense before Caesar, for Luke’s apologetic has not been concerned primarily with Paul’s safety or even the legitimacy of the Christian religion within the empire. What Luke was defending he has successfully concluded: God’s fidelity to his people and to his own word. And that point concluded, the ending of Acts is truly an opening to the continuing life of the messianic people, as it continues to preach the kingdom and teach the things concerning Jesus both boldly and without hindrance, knowing now that although increasingly Gentile in its growth, its roots are deep within the story of people to whom God’s prophets have unfailingly been sent.

That Luke was aware of Paul’s death is indicated in Paul’s farewell speech at Miletus: “But now I know that none of you to whom I preached the kingdom during my travels will ever see my face again. . . . When he had finished speaking he knelt down and prayed with them all. They were all weeping loudly as they threw their arms around Paul and kissed him, for they were deeply distressed that he had said that they would never see his face again. Then they escorted him to the ship.” (Acts 20:25-38)

Joseph A. Fitzmyer writes: “In any case, it may seem strange that the reader is not told anything about the death of Paul, the hero of the second half of Acts. Yet the ending, such as it is, may not be as puzzling as some think, because it does record that Paul continued to preach the kingdom of God, even in Rome, ‘with all boldness and without hindrance’ (28:31). That is the note of triumph on which Luke wanted his story to end. The gospel was thus being preached at Rome, the ‘end of the earth’ (1:8), ‘and without hindrance’ (28:31). The reader of Acts already knows that Paul’s personal end was not far off; the Lucan Paul intimated as much in his speech at Miletus, and so Luke felt no need to recount it. Homer’s Iliad is not seen to be incomplete because it does not describe Achilles’ death!” (The Acts of the Apostles, pp. 791-792)

The ending of Acts is part of Luke’s narrative plan from the beginning. The ending of Acts with Paul in Rome forms an inclusio with the words of Jesus at the ascension in Acts 1:8, “But you will receive power when the holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” The city of Rome was considered an extremity to the West, and the book of Acts portrays the fulfillment of this exhortation, carried throughout the narrative, with the climax of the confident and unhindered preaching of Paul in the capital of the Empire. This is not to suggest that Luke saw the preaching of Paul at Rome as being a one-off supernatural fulfillment of the commission, such that it would not have been in the works during the earlier evangelisation or that it could not have continued with other prophets. But the ending of Acts recalls the beginning and indicates that Luke has completed his work as intended. Paul’s death at the hand of Roman authority does not advance Luke’s point about the faithfulness of God to His people in the spread of the gospel, first to the Judeans, but expanding to the Gentiles, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. But Acts 28:25-28 does advance that point:
They disagreed among themselves and began to leave after Paul had made this final statement: “The Holy Spirit spoke the truth to your forefathers when he said through Isaiah the prophet: ‘Go to this people and say, “You will be ever hearing but never understanding; you will be ever seeing but never perceiving.” For this people’s heart has become calloused; they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts and turn, and I would heal them.’ Therefore I want you to know that God’s salvation has been sent to the Gentiles, and they will listen!”
Why would Luke have waited twenty years or more from his arrival in Rome with Paul to his composition of Luke-Acts? The explanation could be very simple: after twenty years, Luke had received a copy of Mark’s Gospel and decided to write his own version of the story, putting things in order (over against the “many” who have written before him) based on his own investigations, in response to the prompting of his patron, most excellent Theophilus. See the prologue–it doesn’t say, “Whew! I just got to Rome and Paul might be killed soon, so let me tell the story of how it all began when I’m still busy making it happen!” Rather, it says, “Many have undertaken to draw up an account of the things that have been fulfilled among us, just as they were handed down to us by those who from the first were eyewitnesses and servants of the word. Therefore, since I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, it seemed good also to me to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught.” Perhaps Luke took a visit to the holy land to do more investigation of the subject and interview these servants of the word. In any case, the author of Luke in the prologue indicates that he wrote his great work at a time that was (1) at the prompting of Theophilus, likely his patron and (2) when “many” had already written accounts, which Luke would like to set in order and (3) after carefully investigating everything as handed down by the servants of the word. This fits best a time after which Luke had settled down to do teaching of his own, not when he was waiting on the results of the trial of his mentor Paul.

F. F. Bruce writes on the occasion of Luke’s writing (The Book of Acts, pp. 10-12):

It is necessary, then, to look for an appropriate life-setting for a work which strikes the apologetic note in just this way. One attractive suggestion points to the period A.D. 66 or shortly afterward, when the chief accusers of Paul, the Judean authorities, and so completely discredited themselves in Roman eyes by the revolt against imperial rule. True, Paul himself was dead by then, but the accusations against him, especially that of fomenting public disorder, continued to be brought against Christians in general, and his defense, which could have been seen as vindicated in the event, might be validly pleaded on their behalf. In those years it would have been quite effective to emphasize that, unlike the rebellious Jews, Christians were not disloyal to the empire–that, in fact, it was the rebellious Jews themselves who had always done their best to disown Christianity.

The argument that there is nothing in Acts–or even in Luke–that presupposes the Jewish revolt and the resultant destruction of the temple and city of Jerusalem (A. D. 70) has been used in defense of a pre-70 dating for the twofold work–early in the twentieth century by Adolf Harnack and over sixty years later by J. A. T. Robinson.
Indeed, it has been further argued, since there is no allusion to two earlier events–the Neronian persecution and the execution of Paul–that the composition of Luke-Acts should probably be dated not later than A.D. 65. So far as the Neronian persecution is concerned, even Tacitus (no friend to Christians) admits that it was the action of one man’s malignity rather than an expression of public policy, and the official reprobation of Nero’s memory and actions at his death could have been held to cover his persecution of the Christians of Rome. So Luke’s recording of favorable judgments which had been passed on Christianity by other Roman authorities might have been intended to suggest that Nero’s anti-Christian activity was an irresponsible and criminal attack by that now excrated ruler on a movement whose innocence had been amply attested by many worthier representatives of Roman power.

Again, whether Paul’s execution was or was not an incident in the Neronian persecution, the fact that it is not mentioned in Acts is not a decisive argument for the dating of the book: Luke’s goal has been reached when he has brought Paul to Rome and left him preaching the gospel freely there. Certainly, Paul’s arrival in Rome, his gospel witness there for two years, the legal procedure involved in the bearing of his appeal to Caesar, must have brought Christianity to the notice of classes in Roman society on which it had until then made no impression. The interest that was now aroused in it did not die out, but maintained itself and increased, until under Domitian (A.D. 81-96) it had penetrated the highest ranks of all. At any time in this period a work which gave an intelligible history of the rise and progress of Christianity, and at the same time gave a reasoned reply to popular calumnies against it, was sure of a reception amongst the intelligent reading public–or rather listening public–of Rome, of whom Theophilus was probably a representative. Its positive defense was best expressed in the words of Paul, the Roman citizen, whose appeal to Caesar was made not only on his own behalf but on behalf of the Christian community and its faith.
It is difficult to fix the date of composition of Acts more precisely than at some point within the Flavian period (A.D. 69-96), possibly about the middle of the period. The arguments by which Sir William Ramsay, late in the nineteenth century, concluded that it was composed about A.D. 80 are precarious, but nothing that has been discovered since then has pointed to a more probable dating. One consideration, admittedly subjective, is the perspective from which the work has been composed. The relations between Peter, Paul, and James of Jerusalem are presented in a way which would be more natural if all three of them had died and the author had been able to view their lasting achievements in a more satisfactory proportion than would have been so easily attained if they had still been alive. Certainly the impression he gives us of their relations is not the impression received from Paul’s letters, and this is more intelligible if they had been dead for some years and their disagreements (in the eyes of a man like Luke, at any rate) no longer seemed as important as they would have done at the time.

Eckhard Plumacher, translated Dennis Martin, comments on the purpose of Luke-Acts: “Given the delay of the parousia, Christians needed to find their place in the world. Yet this world was…becoming increasingly hostile towards Christianity…On the one hand he opposed the sort of uncompromising Christian hostility toward the state and the society that is visible in the renewal of apocalyptic expectations shared by the Apocalypse of John. On the other hand he did not want to be content and not stand out…Instead, the triumphal images in Acts 14:8-18, 16:16-40; 17:16-33; and 19:23-40 were intended to show that Christianity despite all resistance to it had always managed to succeed in the world. Such lively and therefore convincingly portrayed examples of successful actions in the past were supposed to arouse in the reader the hope that what was so clearly described in the past could become reality in the reader’s present.” (The Anchor Bible Dictionary, vol. 4, p. 400)
Consider Luke 17:20-21, “Once, having been asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, Jesus replied, ‘The kingdom of God does not come with your careful observation, nor will people say, “Here it is,” or “There it is,” because the kingdom of God is within you.’” In Luke 21:24, the author indicates a space of time between the destruction of Jerusalem and when “the times of the Gentiles are fulfilled,” when the cosmic signs will appear ushering in the Son of Man, signs which Mark places near after the tribulation accompanying the First Jewish Revolt (Mark 13:24-29). Bart Ehrman also points out that Luke seems to discourage near-future eschatological expectations: “Luke could provide no absolute assurance of this, however, so he emphasizes to his readers that their ultimate concern should not be with the future but with the present. Thus they should act on the social implications of Jesus’ message in the Gospel (by helping the poor and the oppressed) and continue spreading the good news in Acts. The author wants to stress that the delay of the end cannot be used to nullify the truth of the Christian message. It is likely that some nonbelievers in the author’s locality were using the delay precisely to this end, by pointing out that Jesus’ failure to return in judgment was a sure sign that the Christians had been wrong all along. In opposition to such a view, Luke stresses that God did not mean for the end to come right away. More importantly, he indicates that despite the delay there is good reason to believe that God was and still is behind the Christian mission. Otherwise, from Luke’s perspective, it would be impossible to explain the miraculous success of the Christian mission throughout the world. The hand of God was behind this mission, and there was nothing that any human could ever do to stop it.” (The New Testament: A Historical Introduction to the Early Christian Writings, p. 131)

Helmut Koester writes: “This same Paul, the greatest of the early Christian missionaries, was the chosen vessel to carry the gospel to Rome, the capital of the world. Luke knew from his source that Paul had been arrested during his last stay in Jerusalem, information that enabled him to treat the position of Christianity toward the Roman authority at some length. On the one hand, Paul points out that his entire activity, the founding and establishment of a worldwide Christian church among the gentiles, is due to divine initiative and direction. For this purpose, the readers of Acts see Paul repeat the story of his calling twice (22:3-21; 26:9-20). On the other hand, Paul’s speeches in these last chapters of the book leave no doubt that Christianity is by no means a novel invention designed to disturb the religious peace of the empire. Luke is here defending Christianity against accusations of disrespect for ancient and venerable religious traditions. Paul has to emphasize repeatedly in his defense that he is indeed a Pharisee, which is to say, a Jew who had never done anything against the religion of his fathers (22:1ff; 23:1, 6; 24:14ff; 25:8; 26:2ff).
In Luke’s presentation, Paul is doing more than appeal to the emperor on his own behalf (25:10), he is also making a general appeal to the official Roman position in matters of religious policy, since he can portray himself as the prototype of the pious Roman citizen who has never offended ‘against the law (of the Jews), nor against the temple, nor against Caesar’ (25:8). Paul’s trial is designed to demonstrate that his conviction [of crime] (and thus the conviction of any Christian) would be a violation of the principles of Rome’s policies in matters of religion. This also explains why Luke was not interested in describing the conviction of either Paul or of Peter, both of whom were executed at the time of Nero by a Roman tribunal. Rather, Luke takes great care to point out that Paul, a Roman citizen, is treated with the necessary respect by the Roman officials and soldiers (22:24-29), that he remains in the full possession of his miraculous powers during his eventful travel to Rome, even though a prisoner (27:1-28:16), and that he is able to ‘preach the kingdom of God and teach about the Lord Jesus Christ quite openly and unhindered’ in the capital (28:31).” (History and Literature of Early Christianity, p. 323)

Another detail is worth noting. In Acts 25:13, Luke writes, “When a few days had passed, King Agrippa and Bernice arrived in Caesarea on a visit to Festus.” Luke assumes a knowledge of who this Bernice was in his Greco-Roman readers. This would be most easily assumed after she had been made famous by her affair with the emperor Titus in c. 69 CE. Juvenal mentions her in his Satires in the book on “The Ways of Women,” while Suetonius comments on “his notorious passion for queen Berenice, to whom it was even said that he promised marriage” (Titus 7.1). This lends further probability to a post-70 date of Acts.

Given the purposes of Luke, it should not be assumed that he would wish to narrate the unjust execution of Paul during the Neronian persecution. Rather, Luke chooses to wrap up his story, planned from the outset, with Paul preaching in the capital without drawing the opprobrium of Roman authority, and with the messianic message of Jesus being presented first to the Jew and then to the Gentile under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Luke’s emphasis is on the success of the Christian mission, not the demise of Paul. Luke didn’t suddenly lose interest in the details of Paul’s life story, but rather tells Paul’s story as part of his historical apologetic for Christianity, not as an end in itself. Several specific indications point to a time of writing when Luke had time to research, reflect, and plan the execution of his work, and the opposite opinion rests solely on an incorrect apprehension of the incompleteness of Luke’s narrative.
Stevan Davies writes (Jesus the Healer, p. 174): “Luke wrote at least sixty years after Pentecost and perhaps closer to a century after that event. Scholarship on the subject presently vacillates between a late first century and an early to mid-second century date for Luke’s writings.” I would throw my lot in with those who favor a late first century date. If the Acts of the Apostles were written in the mid second century, it is hard to understand why there would be no mention or even cognizance of the epistles of Paul, which were being quoted as authoritative by writers before that time, especially since Acts has thousands of words devoted to recording things about the life of Paul, unlike Justin Martyr (whose apologies don’t quote Paul). The idea that Acts didn’t mention the letters of Paul because they were in Marcionite use (as is plausible for Justin) founders on the unity of the Luke-Acts composition. And, of course, if the author of Acts was a companion of Paul, it is improbable to place it very long after the turn of the century, even if St. Luke lived to the ripe old age of eighty-four in Boeotia as the Anti-Marcionite Prologue avers. I have not done enough research to come to a conclusion on whether Luke used Josephus’ Antiquities, which would demand a date after 93 CE. Marcion had a form of the Gospel of Luke from which he derived his Gospel of the Lord, which sets an upper bound of around 130 CE. A date for Luke-Acts in the 90s of the first century or first decade of the second would account for all the evidence, including the alleged use of Josephus and the apparent authorship by a sometime companion of Paul. If Luke did not use the Antiquities of Josephus, a date in the 80s is permissible.

https://ehrmanblog.org/accuracy-acts-part-2-members/

We could deal forever with the question of the historical accuracy of Acts. There are entire books devoted to the problem and even to aspects of the problem, and different scholars come to different conclusions. My own view is that since Acts is at odds with Paul just about every time they talk about the same thing, that it is probably not to be taken as very accurate, especially in its detail.
The contradictions appear to be revisions intended to reduce tensions between Paul and the Jerusalem Apostles and make Paul more respectful to them and accepting of their authority than he really appears to have been. For example, Paul says he didn’t go to Jerusalem to talk to Peter and James until three years after his epiphany. Acts says he went immediately. Acts also makes the Jerusalem Apostles more accepting of Paul’s views on the law than they appear to have been from Paul’s letters (and from other indirect evidence from sources like Epiphanius who records Jewish Christians in Palestine as having been very hostile to Paul and still obedient to the Torah).

We can identify all of Acts’ other sources as literary, not historical, sources. What may have been a (now-lost) historical fabrication is included in these literary sources. It was basically a rewrite of the Elijah-Elisha story in some of the Old Testament (OT) texts of Kings, but it put Paul and Jesus in the lead roles instead, which would have been a literary source of historical fiction (not a historical account).
The researcher Thomas Brodie has contended that this clear adjusting of the Kings account begins in Luke’s Gospel and progresses forward until Acts section 15, consequently demonstrating that Luke either coordinated this scholarly creation into his story or he utilized a basic source text, like some past Gospel that covered the demonstrations of Jesus as well as the demonstrations of the missionaries. Thus, it appears that Luke incorporated additional stories into this source text or his own literary concept before effectively dividing the story into two books. Throughout the process, Luke also incorporated material from Paul’s epistles, Mark and Matthew, and possibly other lost Gospels. In any case, the unidentified source text that has been discussed thus far is merely a hypothetical text that can only be inferred to have existed from Acts’ written evidence. Fortunately, the excess artistic sources that researchers can recognize Luke utilized are to be sure sources we really have and consequently can straightforwardly contrast with and investigate.
As an example, the scholar Dennis MacDonald has shown that Luke also reworked fictional tales written by Homer, replacing the characters and some of the outcomes as needed to suit his literary purposes. MacDonald informs us in his The Shipwrecks of Odysseus and Paul (New Testament Studies, 45, pp. 88-107) that:
“The shipwrecks of Odysseus and Paul share nautical images and vocabulary, the appearance of a goddess or angel assuring safety, the riding of planks, the arrival of the hero on an island among hospitable strangers, the mistaking of the hero as a god, and the sending of him on his way [in a new ship].“
https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/new-testament-studies/article/abs/shipwrecks-of-odysseus-and-paul/C39378619084F444580CC38D19CB8622

Acts/Luke using Homeric Epics

Paul actually tells us himself that he was shipwrecked three times, and that at least one time he spent a day and night adrift (2 Cor. 11.25). It’s possible that Luke was inspired by this detail given by Paul and used it to invent a story that expanded on it, while borrowing other ideas and details from famous shipwreck narratives including those found in Jonah, the Odyssey, and the Aeneid. In fact, Acts rewrites Homer a number of other times. Paul’s resurrection of the fallen Eutychus was based on the fallen Elpenor. The visions of Cornelius and Peter were constructed from a similar narrative that was written about Agamemnon. Paul’s farewell at Miletus was made from Hector’s farewell to Andromache. The lottery of Matthias we hear about was built off of the lottery of Ajax. Even Peter’s escape from prison was lifted from Priam’s escape from Achilles. There are other literary sources besides Homer that the author of Acts used as well. For example, the prison breaks in Acts share several themes with the famously miraculous prison breaks found in the Bacchae of Euripedes such as the miraculous unlocking of chains and being able to escape due to an earthquake (compare Acts 12.6-7 and 16.26 to Bacchae pp. 440-49, 585-94).
However, the source that Acts seems to employ more than any other is the Septuagint. While MacDonald has shown that the overall structure of the Peter and Cornelius story is based on writings from Homer, the scholar Randel Helms has shown that other elements were in fact borrowed from the book of Ezekiel in the OT, thus merging both story models into a single one. For example, both Peter and Ezekiel see the heavens open up (Acts 10.11; Ezek. 1.1), both of them are commanded to eat something in their vision (Acts 10.13; Ezek. 2.9), both respond to God twice by saying “By no means, Lord!” using the exact same Greek phrase (Acts 10.14, 11.8; Ezek. 4.14, 20.49), both are asked to eat unclean food, and finally both protest saying that they have never eaten anything unclean before (Acts 10.14; Ezek. 4.14). Clearly, the author of Acts isn’t recording anything from historical memory, but rather is assembling a fictional story using literary structures and motifs that don’t have much if anything to do with what happened to Peter or Paul. The author appears to be inventing this “history” in order to convince his readers of how the previously-required Torah-observance was abandoned in early Christianity, and to convince his readers that this abandonment of Torah-observance was even approved by Peter all along, and confirmed to be approved of through divine revelation. Yet, we know this to be a lie because Paul even tells us himself (in Gal. 2) that he was for a long time the only advocate for a Torah-free version of Christianity, and it was merely tolerated by Torah observers like Peter (and often contentiously so). Similarly, in Acts 15.7-11, we can see that it is basically just Paul’s speech from Gal. 2.14-21 put into Peter’s mouth, which is the exact opposite of what Paul told us actually happened.
In fact, all the other stories in Acts are just like this, where they are a fictional product created from prior literary sources that had no relevance to any actual Christian history, just so Luke could make a point that he thought was important. There may have been some actual authentic sources behind some of the events we read about throughout Acts, but there is simply no evidence for them, nor any way to discern what those historical elements could even be since if any exist, they are embedded in what looks to be a literary invention as opposed to any kind of real history. It seems that Luke was writing this to sell some particular idea of how the church began and later evolved in its early years. Just as Luke had done in his Gospel, Acts tries to portray the Torah-observant and Gentile sects of Christianity as having been continuous and harmonized, it tries to stress the close relationship between Paul and the other apostles, and also the unity of the first believers. In doing so, the author of Acts had to undermine the Epistles of Paul, most especially Galatians.
One example that shows us the historical revisionism seen throughout Acts is the fact that Paul tells us himself that he “was unknown by face to the churches of Judea ” until a number of years after his conversion (Gal. 1.22-23), he tells us that after his conversion he went away to Arabia before eventually returning to Damascus, and he tells us that he didn’t go to Jerusalem for at least three years (Gal. 1.15-18). Yet, in Acts 7-9, the author tells us that Paul was known to and interacting with the Jerusalem church non-stop from the beginning (even before his conversion), and rather than going to Arabia immediately after his conversion, in Acts we are told that he went immediately to Damascus and then back to Jerusalem but a few weeks later, never ever spending so much as a minute in Arabia. So Acts is filled with confirmed instances of historical revisionism, rather than any actual historical accounts.
Another more obvious example of Luke’s inventiveness in Acts is when he expands Jesus’ post-resurrection time on earth to an entire span of forty days, with Jesus hanging out (in secret) with his disciples and dozens upon dozens of other believers. During this time, he has Jesus teaching them even more than he did while he was alive, before having Jesus fly up to outer space to reside with angels (Acts 1.3-12). This is a clear-cut example of myth in the making.

The scholar Burton Mack has given other examples of how Luke’s version of the history of early Christianity in Acts is entirely unrealistic. He tells us:
“Luke says that the standard sermon was preached to the Jews on the day of the Pentecost and often thereafter, whereupon hundreds converted and the whole world became the church’s parish overnight…[but this is] a story that does not make sense as history by any standard.“
Not only is this nonsensical in terms of the ridiculously hyperbolized growth rate, but also in the most general sense of how people would have really behaved. As Mack says:
“No Jew worth his salt would have converted when being told that he was guilty of killing the messiah. No Greek would have been persuaded by the dismal logic of the argumentation of the sermons. The scene would not have made sense as history to anyone during the first century with first-hand knowledge of Christians, Jews, and the date of the temple in Jerusalem. So what do we have on our hands? An imaginary reconstruction in the interest of aggrandizing an amalgam view of Christianity early in the second century. Luke did this by painting over the messy history of conflictual movements throughout the first century and in his own time. He cleverly depicted Peter and Paul as preachers of an identical gospel…That is mythmaking in the genre of epic. There is not the slightest reason to take it seriously as history.“
To summarize Mack’s conclusion, the narrative we see in Acts is so incredible and unrealistic, it couldn’t possibly have been based on historical events. Rather, it is what Luke wanted to have happened and/or what he wants his readers to believe happened. This sentiment applies throughout the entire book of Acts. In terms of background information, this conclusion comes as no surprise since all other “Acts” literature written by Christians was entirely fabricated as well, for example the Acts of Peter, the Acts of Paul, the Acts of Andrew, the Acts of John, and the Acts of Thomas, and all of these Christian fabrications look quite similar to the Acts that we find in the NT. There simply isn’t any reason to trust the Acts found in the NT anymore than these other Christian fabrications, especially after having demonstrated that it is riddled with hyperbole and historical fiction.

Adding to this is the large number of literary coincidences (just as we saw in the earlier post-series concerning the four Gospels in the NT), which aren’t at all believable as history. As the scholar Robert Price observed:
“Peter and Paul are paralleled, each raising someone from the dead (Acts 9.36-40, 20.9-12), each healing a paralytic (3.1-8, 14.8-10), each healing by extraordinary, magical means (5.15, 19.11-12), each besting a sorcerer (8.18-23, 13.6-11), each miraculously escaping prison (12.6-10, 16.25-26).“
Likewise, just as Peter was sent by God to save Cornelius after he sends for Peter following a vision (Acts 10), Paul is also sent by God to save the Macedonians “when a certain Macedonian man ” sends for him in a vision (Acts 6.9-10). Luke also made Paul’s story parallel that of Christ’s, where, as Price tells us “both undertake peripatetic preaching journeys, culminating in a last long journey to Jerusalem, where each is arrested in connection with a disturbance in the temple “, and then “each is acquitted by a Herodian monarch, as well as acquitted by Roman procurators “. Furthermore, both are interrogated by “the chief prests and the whole Sanhedrin” (Acts 22.30; Luke 22.66; cross-referencing Mark 14.55, 15.1), and finally both know that their death is pre-ordained and they both make predictions about what will happen afterward, not long before they die (Luke 21.5-28; Acts 20.22-38; cross-referencing 21.4).
Notably however, Paul does almost everything at a larger scale than Jesus. Paul’s journeys traverse a much larger region of the world, almost the entire northeastern Mediterranean in fact. Paul also travels on and around a significantly larger sea than Jesus did (Mediterranean vs. Sea of Galilee). Even during the one particular journey by sea where Paul faces death from a perilous storm, and is saved by faith, on Paul’s occasion his ship is actually destroyed thus dramatically exceeding the level of peril that Jesus had faced during the storm he encountered. We also hear that Paul’s trial spanned several years rather than merely a single night as was the case for Jesus. Unlike Jesus, we hear that there were actual armies plotting to assassinate Paul, and also unlike Jesus, we hear that Paul had actual armies come to rescue him (Acts 23.20-24). Whereas Jesus was said to stir up violence against himself by his reading scripture in a synagogue (Luke 4.16-30), Paul actually stirs up violence against himself by his reading scripture in two synagogues (Acts 13.14-52, 17.1-5). Though Paul and Jesus both die and are resurrected from the dead, Paul alone marches right back in the city unharmed and continues to preach the gospel in public throughout the region (as if entirely unimpeded), winning many more disciples for Jesus as a result (Acts 14.19-21), whereas Jesus didn’t win any new disciples after his resurrection and didn’t even attempt to do so. Even at the end, unlike Jesus, Paul is eventually sent to meet none other than the emperor of Rome himself — another example of something that Jesus was never said to have accomplished. So despite all the coincidental parallels between Paul and Jesus, by Luke’s account in Acts, Paul has been colored as someone who was not only far more famous and more successful than Jesus was, but also one who faced more dangers and at larger scales.
All of these parallels found between Peter and Paul, and between Paul and Jesus, are simply wholly improbable as history. Another parallel (or set of parallels) worthy of mention concerns the account of Paul’s conversion (Acts 9.1-20), which looks like nothing more than a rewrite of the Emmaus narrative found in Luke’s Gospel (Luke 24.13-35), which is another demonstrably fictional story. Both stories involve a journey on a road from Jerusalem to another city (Emmaus: Luke 24.13; Damascus: Acts 9.1-3). Both stories feature a revelation of Jesus Christ; in Luke the revelation came as “they drew near (eggizein) ” the city where “they were going (poreuein) ” (Luke 24.28), whereas in Acts the revelation came as Paul “drew near (eggizein) ” the city where “he was going (poreuein) ” (Acts 9.3). In both stories we read that Jesus appears and rebukes the unbeliever and then gives them instruction, and accordingly they become believers and then continue on their way to preach what they’ve now come to believe. Both stories involve at least three men on the road together and yet only one of those men is actually named (Paul [as Saul] in Acts, and Cleopas in Luke 24.18). In both stories “the chief priests” of Jerusalem are portrayed as the enemies of the church (Luke 24.20; Acts 9.1, 14). In Luke’s Gospel we hear that God said Jesus had to suffer whereas in Acts we hear that God said that Paul had to suffer (Luke 24.26; Acts 9.16).
Both stories feature some form of blindness, where Paul is blinded by the divine light of his vision in (Acts 9.8), and Cleopas and his friend are unable to see that their fellow traveler is Jesus (Luke 24.16). Both stories also end with this blindness reversed (Acts 9.17-18; Luke 24.31). In Luke’s Emmaus narrative, the visitation occurs on the third day (Luke 24.21), and in Acts the visitation is followed by a blindness that lasts for three days (Acts 9.9). Finally, in Luke, the blindness is cured after a meal begins (Luke 24.30-31), where in Acts, a meal begins after the blindness is lifted (Acts 9.18-19).
As we can see, in order for Acts to be any kind of history, one would have to assume that all of these parallels are merely historical coincidences which is orders of magnitude less probable than that they are simply inventions that were intentionally created to reflect one another. It’s certainly possible for a couple of these coincidences to be historical, but it is nigh impossible for all of them to be historical. Either way, there isn’t any way to weed out any of the possible historical details from within this plethora of fictional constructions. Overall, Acts just shares far too many features with popular adventure novels that were written during the same period, in order to lend it any trust as history. Here’s an overview of those features:
1) They all promote a particular god or religion.
2) They are all travel narratives.
3) They all involve miraculous or amazing events.
4) They all include encounters with fabulous or exotic people.
5) They often incorporate a theme of chaste couples that are separated and then reunited.
6) They all feature exciting narratives of captivities and escapes.
7) They often include themes of persecution.
8) They often include episodes involving excited crowds.
9) They often involve divine rescues from danger.
10) They often have divine revelations which are integral to the plot.
Since Acts shares all of these features and thus looks exactly like an ancient novel of the period, there is simply no good reason to assume that all of the parallels it has with other literary sources are merely historical coincidences. Rather, we should conclude that they are in fact what they have been shown to be: literary constructs and other elements of fiction.

Also:

1. The internal writing style in the Gospel of Luke is different in some respects when compared to Acts. This tends to indicate that someone else wrote Acts. For example, note the use of the Greek word τε (9 times in Luke; 151 times in Acts). Also compare the difference in use of ανηρ (27 times in Luke; 100 times in Acts) to ανθρωπος (95 times in Luke, 46 times in Acts). See the following article for other examples: A.W. Argyle, “The Greek of Luke and Acts,” New Testament Studies (Cambridge University Press) 20 (1974): pp. 441 – 445.
2. Contradictions to other events in the New Testament. For example compare Galatians 1:11-2:10 to the corresponding events in Acts.
3. Significant amounts of material which are unsubstantiated. Many of the details found in Acts are not present in Paul’s writings even when they would be expected. For example, compare the details of Paul’s conversion and persecution of the Church in Galatians 1:13-24 and 1 Corinthians 15:1-9 to those found in Acts.
4. Similarities of some parts of Acts with Greco-Roman literature. This may indicate some of the material in Acts was created based on stories in the literature of the time. For examples of this see: Ruben Rene Dupertuis. “The Summaries in Acts 2, 4, and 5 and Greek Utopian Literary Traditions.” PhD diss., Claremont Graduate University, 2005.

Dating (More)

A growing number of scholars prefer a late date for the composition of Acts, i.e., c. 110-120 CE *(The most comprehensive recent proposal for a late date of Acts is that of Richard I. Pervo, Dating Acts: Between the Evangelists and the Apologists (Santa Rosa, Calif.: Polebridge Press, 2006).
Three factors support such a date. First, Acts seems to be unknown before the last half of the second century. Second, compelling arguments can be made that the author of Acts was acquainted with some materials written by Josephus, who completed his Antiquities of the Jews in 93-94 CE. If the author of Acts knew of some pieces from this document, he could not have written his book before that date. Third, recent studies have revised the judgment that the author of Acts was unaware of the Pauline letters. Convincing arguments have been made especially in the case of Galatians by scholars who are convinced that the author of Acts not only knew this Pauline letter but regarded it as a problem and wrote to subvert it.
See Pervo, Dating Acts; Heikki Leppä, “Luke’s Critical Use of Galatians” (Ph. D. diss., University of Helsinki, 2002); William O. Walker, Jr., “Acts and the Pauline Corpus Reconsidered.” JSNT 24 (1985): 3-23; Walker, “Acts and the Pauline Corpus Revisited: Peter’s Speech at the Jerusalem Conference,” in Literary Studies in Luke-Acts: Essays in Honor of Joseph B. Tyson (ed. Richard P. Thompson and Thomas E. Phillips; Macon, Ga.: Mercer University Press, 1998), 77-86.
They especially call attention to the verbal and ideational similarities between Acts 15 and Galatians 2 and show how the dif-ferences may be intended to create a distance between Paul and some of his later interpreters and critics.

Late daters of Acts agree with intermediate daters in questioning its historical value. But the chief significance of a late date for Acts takes us far beyond claims and denials of historical reliability. Its significance relates to the probable context of Acts’ composition.

Acts using Josephus (More)

Dating of second century A.D. for Acts

First, there is the active and ongoing process of invention and mythmaking that begins in the second century ce. This invention takes place on numerous fronts, including the process of assembling a canon of literature with the joint circulation of certain texts. It also takes place through writings like Acts, which takes the figure of Paul and composes a narrative establishing continuity for the Jesus movement in the aftermath of Jesus’ death. This strategy establishes Paul as a “pan-Christian hero”:
Multiple gospels alongside the letters and Acts show that Paul is part of a larger story still, that of Jesus, and specify and elaborate the objects of his “faith.” Bringing them all together both domesticates and authorizes the letters, verifies Acts, and interprets the gospels, which in their turn show us that Paul’s community organizing and rule-making was about Jesus; and so gives us a picture whose whole is greater than the sum of its traditional parts.
This, for all intents and purposes, “Hero-Paul” is not celebrated as a novel interpreter of the scriptures and philosopher. On the contrary: one of his speeches drones on for so long in Acts that he inadvertently kills a man who dozes off and falls out of a third-story window (Acts 20:9). Hero-Paul is a founder, a martyr, and a miracle worker.

The same observations made about Acts throughout this chapter also apply to Luke. Luke’s communal language is wrapped up with its presentation of a larger myth of origins. Luke presents Jesus as a figure akin to other well-known Greco-Roman literary characters and heroes. In many respects, Luke writes “more like a normal Hellenistic author” and, thus, “the idea of something that suggest[s] communal authorship [is] exposed for its oddness.”78 In her work on Luke–Acts, for instance, Marianne Palmer Bonz notes the parallels between Luke–Acts and the Aeneid’s efforts to bring “the Augustan present directly into contact with the heroic past.” Vergil’s epic “incorporated a complex synthesis of patriotic, moral, and religious themes in its mythologizing history of archaic Roman origins and of the divine prophecies that would read their eschatological fulfillment in the Golden Age of Augustan rule.”79 The same themes of genealogy, eschatological fulfillment, cosmic destiny, and mythologizing of origins takes place in Luke–Acts and, for that matter, in Paul’s letters. And Luke was not alone in penning a “Hellenized Jewish” epic when considered alongside Philo, Theodotus, Ezekiel’s Exagoge, and the fragments of an epic poem recorded by Alexander Polyhistor (preserved by Eusebius).

Patricia Walters in her 2009 monograph The Assumed Authorial Unity of Luke and Acts. She argued the summary statements in Luke and Acts indicate two different authors.

It is possible to challenge the unity of Luke-Acts by using a relatively new approach, Reception History. Kavin Rowe, for example, argues no one in the early church ever read a book called “Luke-Acts” as a single unit. Canonically, the two were always separated and it was not until modern scholarship that anyone thought to read them as a unit. Building on the work of Andrew Gregory, Rowe examines Gregory’s two exceptions which appear to read Luke and Acts together, and concludes these are not true exceptions at all. Both Irenaeus and the Muratorian Canon focus on the authority of the Gospel of Luke rather than Acts. In fact, for Rowe, there is no evidence Luke and Acts were ever circulated as a unit. Acts sometimes introduced the Pauline or Catholic epistles, but no manuscript collected Luke and Acts as a two-part book.
https://doi.org/10.31826/9781463223984-006