I’ve once again been given the opportunity by Ben to take the podium of this blog. At his recommendation, I recently read Robert Price’s The Incredible Shrinking Son of Man, a work which attempts to demonstrate that, at best, we can know almost nothing about the historical figure of Jesus of Nazareth, if he ever even existed. I am very thankful for the opportunity that reading this book provided. It has prodded me to carefully investigate challenging arguments to my faith and as a result has greatly strengthened my confidence in the historicity of the Bible.
Price’s main thesis is that the material found in the four gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John) of the New Testament, which contain biographies of Jesus of Nazareth, is almost entirely fictional and bears little if any connection to actual historical events. The book is arranged into 15 chapters, each of which treats large portions of Jesus’ life and ministry as found in the gospels: his birth and lineage (Chapter 2), his childhood and family (Chapter 3), his relationship to John the Baptist (Chapter 4), his miracles (Chapter 5), his ministry to outcasts (Chapter 6), his twelve disciples (Chapter 7), his teaching on salvation (Chapters 8 and 9), his relationship to Judaism (Chapter 10), his Messiahship (Chapter 11), his arrival in Jerusalem (Chapter 12), his crucifixion (Chapter 13), and his resurrection (Chapter 14). In the final chapter, he gives a useful summary of the book:
Thus far, we have found a consistent pattern. We found we were able to identify earlier and later layers of the gospel tradition, places where one oral tradition has superseded another, where one evangelist has edited or censored another’s work… We have arrived at the conclusion that the gospel tradition seems completely unreliable. That is, most of the saying and stories alike seem to be historically spurious. If any of them should chance to be genuine, we can no longer tell. We cannot render their possible authenticity probable, so they fall to the cutting room floor. (p. 349; All quotes and page numbers are from the 2003 edition of the book.)
In examining the validity of Price’s arguments, I’ll group my discussion of the book into three categories: historical objections, textual objections, and methodological objections.
A few words at the outset. One of the criticisms that Price frequently levels at evangelical scholars is that they have a clear agenda: their goal is to support a traditional Christian understanding of the authority and inerrancy of the Bible and the historicity of the Biblical narrative (p. 21-22). As a result, a critical reader should always question the conclusions of Christian writers because of their lack of impartiality. I agree! As a Christian who is trusting in Christ alone for his eternal salvation and forgiveness of sins, I certainly have a clear desire to affirm the reliability of the Bible, which renders me biased in my judgments. However, I disagree that this argument applies only to Christians; it also applies to skeptics. Can anyone truly be said to be a completely neutral, disinterested observer when it comes to the Bible? A skeptic has implicitly or explicitly built his whole life on a view of reality which assumes that Jesus is not God, that he does not call us to repent and place our trust in him. Doesn’t he then also have an inherent bias to find the Bible historically and theologically unreliable? Nonetheless, I understand Price’s objections, and therefore I’ll try to use explicitly non-Christian scholarly sources when I discuss topics like dating the New Testament documents to avoid the possibility of pro-biblical bias.
I. Historical objections
Price’s main tool in demonstrating the non-historicity of the gospels is the criterion of dissimilarity. Since I will devote the third section of this essay to his use of this criterion, I will not discuss it here. Instead in this section I will focus on specific arguments Price makes for the fictional nature of the gospel narratives. To begin with, I’d like to show that many of Price’s arguments contain factual and historical errors. I’d then like to give an overview of some of the positive evidence for the historicity of the New Testament that can be found outside of the New Testament in documentary sources and archaeological evidence. Obviously, this section will be by no means exhaustive, either in its discussion of Price’s arguments or its presentation of the historical evidence.
There are many different arguments Price uses to dismiss the reliability of the gospels. One of his more creative ideas is based on the names of individuals in the gospel narratives. There are four instances where Price characterizes gospel narratives as fictional due to what he believes are highly allegorical names. In Chapter 5, he states that “we ought to catch the hint that [the story of Jesus raising Jairus’ daughter from the dead] is fictional, as the name ‘Jairus’ means ‘He will awaken’” (p. 152). He uses similar arguments in Chapter 6:
“Jesus’ second encounter with a tax collector may be no more historical, especially as the name ‘Zacchaeus’ is just too good to be true for this character. It is based on the Aramaic zakki, ‘to give alms’… Is it a coincidence that Nicodemus (whose name means ‘ruler of the people’) is said in John 3:1 to be ‘a ruler of the Jews’? Is it a coincidence that Martha, the hostess of Luke 10:38, has a name meaning ‘Lady of the House’? Is it a coincidence that the tax collector who is about to liquidate his holdings on behalf of the poor is called ‘Zacchaeus’?”(p. 170)
While it is true that the name “Martha” probably has Aramaic origins meaning “mistress”, Price’s other assertions are more questionable. Nicodemus doesn’t exactly mean “ruler of the people”; it actually means “conqueror” or “victorious among his people” (the name is derived from the roots “nikos” = “victory” and “demos” = “people”). As for the name “Zacchaeus”, I found no evidence that it is related to the Aramaic “zakki” = “to give alms”. Instead, “Zacchaeus” is the Greek version of a Hebrew name meaning “pure”. Simarly, “Jairus” is Hebrew in origin and means “my light”, “to diffuse light” or “God enlightens” rather than “he will awaken”. Because Price doesn’t cite any of his sources for the etymology of these names, it’s unclear where his information comes from, but based on the sources listed above, it seems that declaring these narratives fictitious based on the names of the characters is unwarranted.
Another fascinating claim made by Price relates to the miraculous catch of fish in John 21. In this post-Resurrection account, Jesus appears to Peter, John, and several other disciples while they are fishing. He tells them to cast their net into the water and they pull out 153 fish. Despite numerous attempts to explain it by Christian commentators, the specification of the precise number of fish seems to have no doctrinal, symbolic, or theological significance whatsoever. In fact, many apologists have argued that the presence of these insignificant details may actually help to distinguish these stories as eyewitness accounts (see C.S. Lewis’ famous quote about the absence of the “realistic narrative” convention in ancient literature). Consequently, I was quite shaken to see the very compelling explanation that Price gives for the number of fish:
This [story] has been borrowed from the lore of Pythagoras… The element of counting the fish makes sense only in the Pythagorean original, where the vegetarian sage’s supernormal wisdom enabled him to intuit the exact number. And the number itself? It turns out to be one of the ‘triangular’ numbers venerated by the mathematically astute Pythagoreans. (p. 158)
As I said, the plausibility of this argument was quite challenging to me. However, there is a major problem with it that Price fails to mention. Although most scholars (that is, non-evangelical scholars) date the Gospel of John to approximately 90 A.D., Price takes the view that it may have been written “in the late second century C.E.” (p. 38). Although I’ll come back to this issue later, let’s assume Price’s dating for the Gospel of John is correct. The difficulty of Price’s theory is that the biography of Pythagoras cited as the source of John’s borrowing was written by Iamblichus in 300 A.D.! In other words, the author of John writing in “200 A.D.” (assuming Price’s dating) borrowed a story from Iamblichus who lived 100 years later. Price might argue that the story of Pythagoras’ miraculous catch of fish originated with Pythagoras himself in 500 B.C. and that Iamblichus was merely the first to write it down. But then he would be arguing that John, writing in “200 A.D.” about the events of Jesus’ life in 30 A.D. borrowed his story from oral legends about Pythagoras, who lived in 500 B.C., which were later accurately recorded by Iamblichus in 300 A.D. Isn’t it far more likely that the Pythagoras story was borrowed from John?
There are numerous other cases where the borrowings that Price cites are substantially anachronistic. For instance, Price cites several rabbinical works (p. 172-174) to show that the gospels are incorrect in portraying the Pharisees as opposed to Jesus’ association with repentant sinners. Price argues that, in contradiction to the gospel reports, “rabbinic Judaism venerates holy men who associated with sinners as Jesus is said to have done” (p. 172). However, the works he cites are Rabbi Zera in Sanhedrin 37 (c. 325 A.D.) and the Aboth of Rabbi Nathan (compiled between 700-900 A.D.), which were written 100 and 600 years after the gospels, respectively. The rabbinic parallel to Jesus parable of the Prodigal Son cited by Price (p. 174) is from Pesikta Rabbati (c. 845 A.D.) and the parallel to the Workers in the Vineyard (p.174) is from the Jerusalem Talmud (compiled in the 3rd and 4th centuries A.D.). Remember that according to Price’s own dating, the gospels were all written by “the late second century A.D.” (p. 38). Presumably, Price is not accusing Jesus of some kind of prophetic plagiarism but is instead trying to make the case that the gospel writers borrowed their stories from contemporary rabbis. However, can we really assert the priority of the rabbinic tradition given that the written records were compiled a minimum of one hundred years after the writing of the gospels (according to Price’s own timeline)? The most egregious example that I found is in Chapter 7, where we find the following statement:
Again it is no surprise to see this passage [a quote from Yalkut Shimoni] closely paralleling Matthew (16:18), whose special material is decidedly Jewish and probably derivative from that source. (p. 188)
Again, the difficulty with this conclusion is that the source from which Price asserts that Matthew’s work is “probably derivative” is the Yalkut Shimoni which was written sometime between 1000 and 1200 A.D. (see also the footnote on p. 129 here).
Despite Price’s focus on textually-based arguments, he does make references to archaeological evidence that contradicts the claims of the New Testament. For instance, on p. 14 Price remarks that “A major collision between the gospel tradition and archaeology concerns the existence of synagogues and Pharisees in pre-70 C.E. Galilee. Historical logic implies that there would not have been any, since Pharisees fled to Galilee only after the fall of Jerusalem.” This statement appears to be erroneous. There is a several page discussion of the historical evidence for the existence of synagogues in pre-70 A.D. Galilee in Levine’s work The Ancient Synagogue p46-54 including this statement:
Almost a score of synagogues in first-century C.E. Judea are attested, especially in the literary sources… These include references in Josephus’ writings (Tiberias, Dor, Caeserea)… The assumption, then, that there were no synagogue buildings in Galilean towns and villages in the first century appears unwarranted.
In fact, it is possible that the Capernaum synagogue in which Jesus preached has recently been discovered in the foundation wall of a later structure. Work is ongoing, but the Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs website concludes that “the stone floor and the lower-earlier western wall are remains of the synagogue from the time of Jesus described in the New Testament” (see Capernaum – City of Jesus). It is also not true that “historical logic” implies that there would “not have been any” Pharisees in Galilee (p. 15). In fact, Josephus makes reference to Pharisees visiting Galilee from Jerusalem during the period in question, and the famous Pharisee Yochanan ben Zakai lived in Galilee in the mid first-century according to the Talmud. The question currently debated among scholars is not whether there were any Pharisees in Galilee but whether they are as common as the gospels indicate (see Jesus and the Pharisees and also The Historical Jesus in Recent Research p. 482 for a discussion of this issue).
Because Price’s arguments are mainly textual, meaning that they derive from an examination of biblical documents rather than appeal to external sources, it is easy to come away with the impression that in terms of assessing the accuracy of the biblical record, the biblical text is all we have. That is not quite the case. In the remainder of this section, I’d like to outline some of the extra-biblical evidence we have for the historicity of the New Testament.
To begin with, let’s examine historical references to Jesus from non-Christian sources roughly contemporary (1st and 2nd century AD) with the New Testament sources. One of the principal sources used by historians of first-century Palestine is the writing of Josephus, a Jewish historian born in 37 A.D. In The Antiquities we find the following passage (see http://www.sacred-texts.com/jud/josephus/ant-20.htm, Chapter 9):
He [the high priest] convened a meeting of the Sanhedrin and brought before them a man names James, the brother of Jesus, who was called the Christ, and certain others. He accused them of having transgressed the law and delivered them up to death.
There is another passage in Josephus that goes into much more detail about Jesus, but since that one is disputed I’ll ignore it (see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Josephus_on_Jesus for a lengthy discussion on the question of this second passage’s authenticity). Next, let’s look at the Roman (non-Christian) historian Tacitus in A.D. 115 (see: http://classics.mit.edu/Tacitus/annals.11.xv.html):
Nero fastened the guilt and inflicted the most exquisite tortures on a class hated for their abominations, called Christians by the populace. Christus, from whom the name had its origin, suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Pontius Pilate, and a most mischievous superstition, thus checked only for the moment, again broke out not only in Judea, the first source of the evil, but even in Rome.
Next, there’s Pliny the Younger, a Roman governor who wrote this in his letters to Trajan:
An information was presented to me without any name subscribed, containing a charge against several persons: these, upon examination, denied they were, or ever had been, Christians. They repeated after me an invocation to the gods, and offered religious rites with wine and frankincense before your statue; (which for that purpose I had ordered to be brought together with those of the Gods) and even reviled the name of Christ; whereas there is no forcing, it is said, those who are really Christians, into any of these compliances… They affirmed the whole of their guilt, or their error, was, that they met on a certain stated day before it was light, and addressed themselves in a form of prayer to Christ, as to some god, binding themselves by a solemn oath, not for the purposes of any wicked design, but never to commit any fraud, theft, or adultery; never to falsify their word, nor deny a trust when they should be called upon to deliver it up: after which, it was their custom to separate, and then re-assemble, to eat in common a harmless meal.
There are a few others (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Historicity_of_Jesus), but just from these we obtain the following picture of Jesus: He lived in first-century Palestine in Judea during the reign of Pontius Pilate, was called the Christ (the Greek word for ‘Messiah’), was crucified under Pilate, and was worshipped as a god by his followers who continued to grow in number despite his crucifixion. These accounts also confirm several other details mentioned in the New Testament, such as the name of Jesus’ brother James (Gal. 1:19), the practice of communion (1 Cor. 11:20-29) (or at least a communal fellowship meal, Acts 2:42-47), the refusal of Christians to acknowledge other gods (1 Cor. 10:18-21; Luke 12:8-9), and the moral practices of the early Christians (Gal. 5:19-24). Although there are obviously a plethora of references to Christ in early extra-biblical Christian writings (Clement, Ignatius, Justin Martyr), some of whom explicitly mention having contact with eyewitnesses of Jesus’ life or the subjects of his healings (Papias quoted by Eusebius), I think these non-Christian sources are the most compelling because the authors had no allegiance to Christianity or any desire to bolster the claims of what they considered a ‘mischievous superstition’. So far from a lack of corroborative evidence for the existence of Christ, we actually have quite a lot of documentary evidence from both Christian and non-Christian sources.
In addition to the documentary evidence regarding the life of Christ, we also have a massive amount of archaeological evidence confirming numerous central and supporting details in the New Testament narratives. For instance, archaeologists have found the burial box of the high priest Caiaphas (Matthew 26:57-67), the synagogue at Capernaum (Mark 1:21-28), Jacob’s well (John 4), the pool at Bethesda (John 5:1-14), the pool at Siloam (John 9:1-14), the theater at Ephesus (Acts 19:29), and Herod’s palace at Caesera (Acts 23:33-35). In Acts, Luke uses the correct regional titles for government officials in Thessalonica (‘politarchs’), Ephesus (‘temple wardens’), Cyprus (‘proconcil’), and Malta (‘the first man of the island’). Physical evidence such as inscriptions have also confirmed such figures as governor Pontius Pilate, Gallio proconsul of Achaia (Acts 18:12-17), Erastus city treasurer of Corinth (Rom 16:23), and Lysanias tetrarch of Abilene (Luke 3:1). This is only an extremely small fraction of the confirmatory evidence of the historicity of the gospels and the other New Testament documents, as entire books have been written on the subject. The classic text on the historical reliability of the New Testament is F.F. Bruce’s The New Testament Documents: Are They Reliable? which is available free online. A more recent work which focuses on archaeology in particular is John McCray’s Archaeology and the New Testament.
II. Textual objections
In some ways, examining the external historical evidence for Price’s claims is only secondary to our investigation of his book, since his conclusions are based mostly on textual and internal evidence from the documents of the New Testament itself. Therefore, in this section, I’d like to look at Price’s treatment of the biblical text and determine whether Price’s arguments are based on sound reasoning and a comprehensive treatment of the source materials.
Before going any further, we need to discuss the dating of the documents of the New Testament. Price’s conclusions about the authorship and dating of the New Testament documents conflict not only with those of evangelical scholars, but with those of most critical (i.e. non-evangelical) scholars as well. A good reference for readers interested in learning more about critical scholarship of the New Testament can be found in Bart Ehrman’s textbook The New Testament: A historical introduction to the early Christian writings. Ehrman is a former evangelical Christian and now an agnostic whose recent works include Misquoting Jesus and God’s Problem: how the Bible fails to answer our most important question – why we suffer, so it is probably safe to assume that he does not bring a significant pro-biblical bias to his work. A comparison of Price’s timeline of New Testament authorship to the timeline in Ehrman’s work (p. 41, The New Testament) or to the one found on Wikipedia’s entry on the New Testament reveals stark differences. Price proposes the following dates for the final redaction of the gospels: 100-132 A.D. for the Gospel of Mark (p. 33), mid 2nd-century for the Matthew (p. 33), mid-2nd century for Luke-Acts (p. 33), and 125-175 A.D. for John (p. 34), although he also states later that “By our evidence, vague as it is, the Gospels might possibly have been written as late as the third century C.E.” (p. 40). In contrast, the general consensus of critical (non-evangelical) scholarship is: Mark (65-73 A.D.), Matthew (70-100 A.D.), Luke (80-100 A.D.), and John (90-110 A.D.) (evangelicals would probably tend to date the gospels slightly earlier). Thus Price dates these documents between 50 and 200 years later than the majority of non-evangelical scholars.
Why are these dates important? Mainly because the earlier the date of authorship, the less feasible are Price’s arguments about legendary accretion and borrowing. The dating of critical scholars puts the composition of the gospels (to say nothing of the Pauline epistles, which they believe were written between 50-70 A.D.) well within the lifetime of the apostles and other eyewitnesses of the life of Jesus. As a result, it becomes more difficult to allege as Price does that the gospel writers had no first-hand knowledge of Jesus and fabricated most of the accounts of his life. All that being said, let’s assume for the sake of argument that Price’s dating assumptions are accurate and simply examine his arguments as they stand in relation to the biblical text.
Again, due to the diversity of arguments that Price presents it is difficult to treat them systematically. Although I won’t address them in any particular order, I think a clear pattern of exegesis emerges from Price’s treatments of different texts. Price consistently builds his argument on a small number of passages while passing over other pieces of evidence that might challenge his theories.
For instance, Price claims that Jesus was not originally thought to be the ‘Son of David’, but that this fact was added later to support his Messianic qualifications. In Chapter 2, he states that “we can trace a trajectory along which the early Christian belief regarding Jesus’ genealogical credentials evolved” (p. 46). In other words, Price believes that originally, Christians knew that Jesus was not a descendant of David, and simply rejected the idea that the Messiah would come from David’s house. Only later, did Luke and Matthew decide to reinsert the idea of Jesus’ descent from David. Let’s look at the evidence for this claim.
First, we have the fascinating incident in the Temple from Mark 12:35-37:
And Jesus said, as he taught in the temple, ‘How can the scribes say that the Christ is the Son of David? David himself said by the Holy Spirit, “The Lord said to my Lord, ‘Sit at my right hand, until I put your enemies beneath your feet.’” David himself calls him ‘Lord,’ so how can he be his son?’”
Price asserts that this was actually an early apologetic attempt to deny the requirement that the Messiah be a son of David: “whether Christians created or borrowed [this passage], the implications are the same: there was a time when Christians knew quite well that their Christ was not a Davidic descendent and made the best of it” (p.47-48). But let’s look more closely at Mark 12:35-37. Let’s imagine that the author’s intent was to undermine the idea of a Davidic messiah. Does this motive fit the reasoning of the passage? Absolutely not! Jesus asks the Pharisees why David calls the Messiah ‘Lord’. The answer “Because the Messiah is not Davidic” doesn’t make any sense. Why would David call the non-Davidic Messiah “Lord”? Would the fact that the Messiah was not a descendent of David explain David’s deference to him? In fact, the traditional explanation does a much better job fitting the logic of Jesus question: “The Messiah must not only be David’s son, but also David’s Lord.”
There are several other pieces of evidence to refute Price’s hypothesis that the idea of Jesus’ Davidic ancestry was a development that came after Mark. First, we read in Mark 2:25-28 that when the Pharisees complain that Jesus’ disciples are breaking the Sabbath, he responds “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need?” (Mark 2:25). In other words, Jesus compares himself to David and his disciples to David’s companions. Could this merely be a rhetorical device or merely a reference to the fact that both groups were hungry (p. 257)? Perhaps. What about the blind man on the road to Jerusalem:
When [the blind man] heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’ Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!’ Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” (Mark 10:46-49)
Perhaps this passage only proves that one blind man falsely assumed that Jesus was a Davidic Messiah. But apparently, the blind man was not the only one who had this idea:
Those who went ahead [of Jesus as he entered Jersualem] and those who followed shouted, “Hosanna!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!” “Hosanna in the highest!”” (Mark 11:9-10)
Price states that these acclamations are non-messianic (p. 284, p.293), but this claim strikes me as unlikely given that the people are shouting “Hosanna” = “save”, are quoting Psalm 118 to declare that Jesus “comes in the name of the Lord” and looking forward to the “coming of David’s kingdom” which they expected the Messiah to restore. Finally, it should be pointed out that the Gospel of Mark, while probably the earliest gospel written, is by no means the earliest book of the New Testament. For instance, there is (non-evangelical) scholarly consensus that Paul’s letter to the Romans was written between 55 A.D. and 58 A.D., less than thirty years after the crucifixion. In the introductory verses of that letter, we find the following statement: “Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle and set apart for the gospel of God— the gospel he promised beforehand through his prophets in the Holy Scriptures regarding his Son, who as to his human nature was a descendant of David” (Rom 1:1-3).
Another interesting claim involves the Paracletos (Greek for “advocate” or “comforter”) whom Jesus promises to send his disciples after his resurrection. This figure has traditionally been understood by commentators to be the Holy Spirit. However, Price believes that the Paracletos mentioned in John “is none other than the gospel writer himself” (p.35; see also p. 236). Price’s hypothesis is that the author of John fabricated Jesus’ predictions of the coming of the Paracletos so that he could then claim to be its fulfillment. The text Price cites is:
“I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of Truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak.” John 16:12-13
Given only these verses, Price’s claim this passage was meant to refer (somewhat hyperbolically) to a human prophet is vaguely plausible. However, if John’s agenda was to claim authority as this “Spirit of Truth”, we would expect that all the references to this figure in the Gospel of John would clearly point to some human, prophetic figure which would be recognizable as John himself. Yet, in a discourse just prior to the one that Price cites, Jesus explicitly identifies the Paracletos: “But the Counsleor [Gk. Paracletos], the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you” (John 14:25). Furthermore, in John 14, we find the following statement:
And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counselor [Gk. Paracletos] to be with you forever— the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you. (John 14:16-17)
We see in this verse that the Paracletos, whoever he is, will be with the disciples forever, will not be received or seen by the world, and will dwell with and in the disciples (see also John 7:38-39). If John intended to set himself up as the coming Paracletos, I question whether he would have set the credentials so high or would have used language which the original hearers would have undoubtedly interpreted to refer to the Holy Spirit or would have explicitly stated otherwise in 14:25.
What about Price’s view of early Christian belief in adoptionism, the idea that Jesus was not originally the Son of God, but became the Son of God either at his baptism or at his resurrection? For instance, in Chapter 11 he states that in the gospel of Mark, “[Jesus’] sonship was conferred at the baptism” (p. 275). Only did later tradition (as seen, for instance, in the gospel of John) claim that Jesus was God Himself in human form. Again, there are several responses to this statement. First, the earliest documents we have, such as Paul’s letter to the Phillipians indicate that Jesus was viewed as God:
Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:
Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,
but made himself nothing,
taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to death—
even death on a cross!
Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father. (Phil. 2:5-11)
Ehrman takes the view that this letter was written sometime between 50 – 60 A.D., and, what is more significant, he also believes that in these verses Paul is actually quoting an Christian hymn that originated even earlier (see The New Testament p. 295). Even if these verses originated with Paul, then Christians were worshipping Jesus as God as early as 60 A.D. Notice also that these verses explicitly refute adoptionism. Christ was “in very nature God” but then “made himself nothing…being made in human likeness” Phil. 2:6-7). In other words, Christ was equal to God prior to his incarnation (“being made in human likeness”) and certainly prior to his baptism.
We can also consider the evidence from within Mark itself against an early belief in adoptionism. The very first verse in the Gospel of Mark is: “The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (Mark 1:1). Although Price doesn’t reference this verse, I suspect that he would argue that the phrase “the Son of God” is a later addition, especially since it doesn’t appear in some manuscripts. However, most translators include it because it does appear in the earliest manuscripts and because its omission can be explained by a simple error in transcribing a series of very Greek similar letters (see footnote 3 here for a detailed discussion of whether this phrase was contained in the original manuscript). For the sake of argument, let’s imagine that this phrase was indeed a later addition. What are the next several verses of Mark’s gospel?
It is written in Isaiah the prophet: “I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way”— “a voice of one calling in the desert, ‘Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him.’ (Mark 1:2-3)
The passages that Mark quotes are from the book of Isaiah and from the book of Malachi. Let’’s take a take look at those verses in context:
“See, I will send my messenger, who will prepare the way before me. Then suddenly the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come,” says the LORD Almighty. “But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears? For he will be like a refiner’s fire or a launderer’s soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; he will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver. Then the LORD will have men who will bring offerings in righteousness, and the offerings of Judah and Jerusalem will be acceptable to the LORD, as in days gone by, as in former years. So I will come near to you for judgment.” (Mal. 3:1-5)
Notice that the passage that Mark quotes about the coming of Christ is an Old Testament reference to the coming of “the Lord”. Does this mean God himself? It would seem so, since it is the Lord who is speaking in this passage and stating that the messenger he sends will prepare the way before him (that is, the Lord himself) as he comes to “his temple” (Mal. 3:1). This conclusion is made even more clear when God says that in the coming of this figure, “I will come near to you for judgment” (Mal. 3:5). The next passage is even more explicit:
A voice of one calling: “In the desert prepare the way for the LORD; make straight in the wilderness a highway for our God. (Is. 40:3)
Again, the way is being prepared for the Lord, literally for “Yahweh” the personal name by which God identified himself to Israel. These passages, which Mark applies to the coming of Jesus, clearly refer to the coming of the God of Israel to his people. Thus, it is hard to escape the fact that Mark saw Christ not as merely a man, but as God himself, even in the few verses that take place prior to Jesus’ baptism in Mark 1:9-11.
A fourth major claim that Price makes is that in the earliest accounts, Jesus did not perform miracles. He bases this argument mainly on Jesus’ statement in Mark 8:12 “Why does this generation ask for a miraculous sign? I tell you the truth, no sign will be given to it” which he refers to numerous times (p. 132, 133, 146, 160, 161) as a “preemptive denial of all miracles” (p. 146). He also believes that 1 Cor. 1:22-23 which states that “Jews demand miraculous signs and Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles “comes awfully close to explicitly denying that Jesus did miracles” (p. 132). Let’s examine the context of these passages more closely.
First, Jesus’ statement in Mark 8:12 is part of the following pericope (Mark 8:11-13):
The Pharisees came and began to question Jesus. To test him, they asked him for a sign from heaven. He sighed deeply and said, “Why does this generation ask for a miraculous sign? I tell you the truth, no sign will be given to it.” Then he left them, got back into the boat and crossed to the other side.
The first thing that is apparent in this passage is that Jesus is responding to the questioning of the Pharisees, who are consistently opposed to Jesus throughout the gospel of Mark. The word translated as “question” is “suzeteo” which could also be translated as “dispute” or “argue”. Next, the word translated as “test” is “peirzontev” which is sometimes translated as “tempt” and is the same word that Mark used when Jesus was “being tempted by Satan” (Mark 1:13). This idea seems to be confirmed by Jesus response: “ to sigh deeply” or more literally “to sigh deeply in his spirit”. What is it that disturbs Jesus? The author’s intent is to show that the Pharisees are again approaching Jesus as opponents seeking to discredit him without any real interest in who he is (see Mark 3:6). What’s more, the Pharisees are asking for a “sign from heaven”, some kind of miraculous display in the skies to prove that Jesus was the Messiah. Why would this have been so troubling to Jesus? Let’s consider the broader context of the passage. Mark places these events between two other stories: the feeding of the four thousand (Mark 8:1-10) and the healing of the blind man at Bethsaida (Mark 8:22-26). If Jesus is explicitly denying that he performs miracles, it seems odd for Mark to place this statement between two accounts of miracles. It seems then that Mark is making a clear point. Feeding the hungry and healing the sick mean nothing to the Pharisees; they want something spectacular. They do not actually lack evidence, even miraculous evidence, that Jesus is the Messiah; they simply refuse the evidence that is given to them.
The passage from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians has a similar context. In 1 Cor. 1:18-25 Paul is rebuking both Jews and non-Jews for forsaking God’s wisdom. In the case of Jews, this manifests itself in demanding from God miraculous signs without which they refuse to believe in Christ. In the case of non-Jews, it is the exaltation of their wisdom over God that causes them to reject Christ. In both cases, it is coming to God in pride rather than in humility that Paul is criticizing. He does not actually deny doing miracles any more than he denies preaching a message of wisdom (1 Cor. 2:6). But he says that what he ultimately preaches is Christ crucified, not miraculous signs or human wisdom. Is this because the early church didn’t experience miracles? A few chapters later Paul, almost in passing, makes the following statement:
Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it. And in the church God has appointed first of all apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then workers of miracles, also those having gifts of healing, those able to help others, those with gifts of administration, and those speaking in different kinds of tongues. (1 Cor. 12:27-28)
Here Paul identifies the “working of miracles” and “gifts of healing” as two of the gifts imparted by God to the church. Paul makes numerous references to miracles in his other letters including Romans 15:18-19, Galatians 3:5, and 2 Cor. 12:12. However, as in the ministry of Jesus, the focus of his message was not on the miracles, but on the forgiveness of sins offered by Christ through his death and resurrection.
Although some of Price’s arguments are plausible given the data he presents, most of them do not agree well with the immediate context of the passage or with the entirety of the document. Price’s view that traditions about Jesus evolved dramatically from the lifetime of Jesus to the final compilation of the New Testament seems to have very little support. In particular, the fact that he does not address the Pauline epistles is a very problematic. Given that most scholars believe that Paul’s letters are actually the earliest Christian documents that we possess, written less than thirty years after Jesus’ death, we should actually begin with them rather than the gospels to get an idea of early Christian theology. Knowing how accepted this idea is among modern scholars, it is amazing that Price does not address it. In order for his arguments about the progressive evolution of Christian theology to hold, he must either show that this evolution is indeed reflected in Paul’s letters or assert that Paul’s letters were written well after the gospels. The fact that he entirely ignores the challenge that the Pauline epistles pose to his arguments is a major problem.
In general, I think that Price is not letting the documents speak for themselves, but rather is looking in the documents for evidence to support his overarching theories of the early Christian movement. To understand in part where this tendency comes from, it is helpful to examine Price’s methodological approach to the New Testament, which I will do in the next section.
III. Methodological objections
In his Introduction, Price outlines the criterion which will guide his analysis of the Biblical text for the remainder of the book: the criterion of dissimilarity. I’d first like to point out that most critical (non-evangelical) scholars use several other criteria, which are defined well in this the essay “A Historical Study of Jesus of Nazareth” by James McGrath a non-evangelical, critical scholar himself). One of the facts that McGrath notes in his essay is that scholars recognize these conditions as sufficient but not necessary. What does that mean? It means that these criteria tell you when a saying is more likely to be historical (if you agree with the premises of critical scholarship), but that they cannot definitively tell you that a saying is unhistorical. They all have limitations that will fail to “pick up” authentic sayings and actions of Jesus. McGrath emphasizes that these criteria must be used together since they each have significant weaknesses. In contrast, Price relies almost entirely on the criterion of dissimilarity. In this section, let’s examine that criterion and determine whether it is reliable as a historical tool.
The criterion of dissimilarity states that if a saying of Jesus resembles either 1st century Judaism or the teaching of the early church, then “the historian has no right to accept [it] as authentically dominical (i.e. coming from the Lord, Dominus, Jesus)” (p. 16). Throughout his book, Price draws parallels between the gospel narratives and other stories, culled from the surrounding Hellenistic culture, contemporary Judaism and the Old Testament, and sources as remote as 5th century B.C. India (p. 156) and 19th century A.D. China (p. 143). He uses these parallels to dismiss the authenticity of the gospel accounts since, by the criterion of dissimilarity, anything which finds a parallel in other ancient literature or mythology cannot be declared to be authentic. Since this is the criteria that Price uses almost exclusively in his book, I’d like to point out how problematic it is.
Let’s imagine that I wanted to study the life and work of Charles Darwin. But imagine that all of Darwin’s own writings, lectures, and correspondence had been lost so that the only source material I had was secondary, that is, material that had been written by others about Darwin or about his work. If we were to apply the criterion of dissimilarity to this venture, it would dictate that we reject as inauthentic any teaching of Darwin that resembled either 19th century naturalism or modern evolutionary theory. Clearly, modern biologists have a great incentive to lend authority to their theories by claiming their origin from an illustrious scientist like Darwin. Similarly, 19th century followers of Darwin would naturally attribute major scientific discoveries of the age to their revered hero.
So we would set out to reconstruct the life and works of Darwin, removing the later legendary accretions of naturalism, biology, and evolution. How close would we come to anything approximating the life and works of the historical Darwin? Not close at all. Our view would be completely warped by our assumptions. On the other hand, what if we treated the source material as generally reliable, even if we didn’t have complete certainty of its thoroughgoing accuracy? Then we would probably arrive at a generally accurate picture of Darwin, his theories, and his life in general. I think this example demonstrates the woeful inadequacy of the criterion of dissimilarity as the sole means for determining historicity. In his essay, McGrath comes to the same conclusion about the criterion of dissimilarity, that “on its own this criterion will at best give us an unbalanced and lopsided portrait of the historical Jesus… [It is] unthinkable that Jesus completely differed from John the Baptist and Judaism in general, and that none of his followers sought to preserve at least some of his actual emphasis and teaching” (“A Historical Study of Jesus of Nazareth”).
A similar response can be made to Price’s criticism of “harmonization” of the gospel narratives, which means an attempt to fit together the various perspectives offered by the gospel writers to construct a coherent narrative (p. 26; 38). Imagine that you took my wife and me into separate rooms and asked us both to write a one-page account of our wedding day. Although you would find that the accounts agreed on all major facts (we were married in Princeton, New Jersey in June of 2002, our reception was held at the Nassau Inn, etc…) there would certainly be many details included by Christina that I would omit, and many details that I would include that Christina would omit due to our different opinions as to the relative importance of different events. For example, I would certainly state how beautiful Christina looked when she walked down the aisle, but I doubt she would mention that fact in her narrative. There might also be a few instances where our accounts appeared to be contradictory. If Christina writes that we took pictures in front of McCosh Hall, and I write that we took pictures in front of Firestone Library, perhaps we took pictures in both places. Or perhaps those buildings are near one another on Princeton’s campus. If the gospels are even remotely accurate and can be traced in any way to actual eyewitness accounts, it is very likely that they will include differences in both emphasis and content. To write off all harmonization as a willful attempt to evade contradiction therefore seems to be unjustified on purely historical grounds.
Even if we were to accept Price’s use of the criterion of dissimilarity, which I believe is extremely problematic, there are other difficulties with his arguments. In the first section of this essay, I’ve already discussed how many of the Hellenistic parallels that Price cites are substantially anachronistic; they are drawn from sources written well after the gospels even according to Price’s dating. But even in the cases where the borrowing is at least chronologically possible, I question not only whether the borrowing could feasibly have occurred, but even whether there is any real parallel at all. The danger of looking for parallels so carefully is that it is very easy to find them whether or not they exist. To prove my point, let me reproduce a passage from Greek mythology in which Price sees a “startlingly close” parallel to a New Testament story:
Sostrata, a woman of Pherae, was pregnant with worms. Being in a very bad way, she was carried into the Temple and slept there. But when she saw no distinct dream she let herself be carried back home. Then, however, near a place called Kornoi, a man of fine appearance seemed to come upon her and her companions. When he had learned from them about their bad luck, he asked them to set down on the ground the litter in which they were carrying Sostrata. Then he cut open her abdomen and took out a great quantity of worms – two wash basis full. After having stitched her belly up again and made the woman well, Asclepius revealed to her his presence and enjoined her to send thank-offering for her treatment to Epidaurus.
I ask the reader whether they can determine which New Testament passage Price claims is “startlingly close” to this narrative so that he can conclude that “no one could give a good reason for maintaining that one is fiction and the other is history” (p. 339). Is it Mark 5:24-34? Or Luke 24:13-32? Or Matthew 8:1-4? or John 5:1-13? In fact, a case could very plausibly be made that all of these passages are parallels of the Asclepius story. Or none of them. Or only one of them. And that is precisely the problem. If we look closely enough at any two documents, we can construct any number of parallel passages; unfortunately that tells us more about our creativity than about dependencies in the source material.
Again, consider Price’s treatment of the healing of the paralytic in Mark 2:1-12, which, to use Price’s own summary of the incident, “is the wonderful story of the paralyzed man whose friends, unable to press to the front of the crowd, instead hoist him by ropes in front of Jesus. Their dogged efforts attest their faith, and Jesus rewards their outrageous behavior by forgiving their friend’s sin” (p. 149). This story, says Price, “seems to be based on another story, one from 2 Kings 1:2-17a” in which, again using Price’s summary, “’the Israelite king fell through the lattice in his upper chamber in Samaria and lay sick’. He sends messengers to inquire of the oracle of the god Baal-zebub (“Lord of Flies”). .. Will he recover? Yahve… sends Elijah to intercept the emissaries. He tells them not to bother going any further. He can tell them right now… that Ahaziah is doomed because of his lack of faith (p. 149).” Can we honestly claim that these two stories are somehow related, even using Price’s own summary of the stories? In fact, Price states that the stories are not actually parallels, but actually anti-parallels: “The Markan story is a happy reversal of this one [in 1 Kings]” (p. 149). Given such latitude in our definition of “similarity”, I wonder if there are any two stories in any two books that we won’t find ultimately derive from each other and are therefore inauthentic. (If anyone is interested, here are some Old and New Testament passages that Price believes are sources and derivatives with a few extras thrown in. I’ve included them in chronological order, and I’m curious to see if an observer who hasn’t read Price’s book can match them up: Ex. 18:13-26, Num 11:26-29, Num 15:32-36, Jdg. 7:5-6, 2 Sam 15:24-16:14, 1 Ki 13:1-6, Esth. 5:1-2, Job 41:1-4, Jer. 17:19-27, Mark 3:1-5, Mark 3:19-21, 3:31-35, Mark 9:38-40, Mark 14:32-51, Matt. 12:40, John 3:16-21, John 9:1-12, Acts 14:8-13).
In summary, aside from the problems that I discussed in the first two sections, I believe that Price’s scholarship is hindered at the outset by his methodological assumptions. It seems clear that we would not attempt to apply the methods used by Price to any other historical figure and expect to obtain an accurate picture of his or her life. What is more, the signal-to-noise ratio in Price’s deconstruction of literary parallels seems unacceptably high. If such a critical hermeneutic were applied to documents in general, I question whether the blandest piece of reportage in the Des Moines Register would pass as authentic.
Conclusions
In conclusion, I believe that the thoroughgoing skepticism with which Price views the New Testament documents is not a consequence of historical or textual evidence. There are massive amounts of documentary and archeological evidence which lend support to both the major facts of Jesus’ life and minor historical details of the gospel narratives. The majority of scholars, evangelical and non-evangelical, believe that the New Testament documents were composed within the lifetime of the apostles, Jesus’ closest followers, and eyewitnesses to the events of his life. The text of the New Testament, when examined closely, is not a collection of irreconcilably incongruous fragments, but is a remarkably coherent picture of the teachings and actions of Jesus of Nazareth and the beliefs and practices of the early church. In contrast to Price’s claim that there is almost nothing we can know about the historical Jesus, there appears to be an abundance of information recorded for us in the pages of the New Testament.
Despite the overwhelming evidence in its favor, I don’t want to give the impression that there are absolutely no remaining questions regarding the historical content of the New Testament. There are a few problems for which there is no clear, obvious answer. For instance, the question of the census of Quirinius has plagued biblical scholars for hundreds of years. Though there are plausible, reasonable explanations for these issues (see a discussion of the census here and here), there is certainly not a consensus. I can think of several other details, such as Herod’s massacre of the children in Bethlehem recorded in Matthew 2:16-18, or the hour of the crucifixion in John 19:14, that are sometimes cited as insurmountable problems. However, I think that there are several important things to keep in mind.
The first is that we have very limited archaeological data for the history of 1st century Palestine. For instance, despite the fact that the existence of Pontius Pilate as governor of Judea has been attested by numerous documents and has never been doubted, the first physical evidence for his existence was not discovered until 1961! Therefore it would be extremely unwise to take the absence of physical evidence for some particular detail as an indication of its unreliability. Second, there have been several purported biblical errors that have been resolved either by subsequent archaeological discoveries, such as the existence of Lysanias tetrarch of Abilene (recorded in Luke 3:1), or by a more careful reading of the text. Consequently, we should be hesitant in assuming that our current understanding of an inconsistency will not be later resolved. Finally, I can say confidently that the evidence for the general historical reliability for the New Testament is absolutely overwhelming. Remember that the vast majority of narrative statements in the New Testament such as “Jesus stepped into a boat, crossed over and came to his own town” (Matthew 9:1) or “On the next Sabbath almost the whole cite gathered to hear the word of the Lord” (Acts 13:44) are not the kind of things that we should expect to have any historical record of apart from the New Testament narratives themselves. It’s very unlikely that we’ll ever dig up the boat that Jesus used or a video tape of the Sabbath service in Antioch. Of the remaining statements for which we might have some expectation for independent confirmation, we find that the New Testament is remarkably accurate. Given that we have a massive amount of substantiating evidence, at the very least, we should be willing to take the biblical records at face value as a generally reliable account of the life of Jesus and the history of the early church.
Then where does the doctrine of biblical inerrancy come in? Why do I believe that the Bible is the inspired Word of God? I can’t speak for others, but for me, it works like this: based on the arguments I presented above, the New Testament appears to be a reasonably accurate historical document. Therefore, I can read its accounts of the life of Jesus as a generally accurate picture of the teachings and deeds of a real, historical person. When I read this account, I find a Person like no one I’ve ever encountered. On the one hand, his life is one of absolute compassion, gentleness, and love. He cares for the sick. He is compassionate to prostitutes, widows and lepers. Most of all, he is a friend of sinners and turns away no one who comes to him. On the other hand (or even on the same hand), this Person is utterly terrifying. His goodness is absolute and complete. He doesn’t allow me to make excuses. He condemns my sin, my pride, my self-righteousness, and my failure to live a life of love for God and love for my fellow man. By his very goodness, he holds a mirror up to my own life, full of denials, pettiness, and self-glorification. And yet he calls me: “Come to me, all you who are heavy laden and I will give you rest for your souls. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” The story of this historical person is the story of sacrifice: God made him sin who knew no sin, so that we might become the righteousness of God. On the cross, Jesus took the punishment that we deserve, so that we could have the acceptance that he deserved. God raised him up from the dead to declare that the payment was made in full and that all who receive him can receive forgiveness of sins and new life. So I put my faith in this person and surrender my life to his lordship.
As his follower, what is one of the things I notice about Jesus? It is that his teaching, his actions, and his very life are steeped in the Bible. He and his earliest followers treated the Scriptures as the Word of God, God’s authoritative message to humanity. He viewed it as utterly trustworthy, and saw in its teaching a revelation of God’s goodness, holiness, and saving purposes. Given this fact, and as his disciple, I’m willing to trust in the Bible as Jesus did.
For non-Christians, I don’t think that the first question I would settle is whether the Bible is inerrant. The first question I would settle is: “Who is this Jesus?” If I am convinced that the Bible is generally trustworthy, then I need to honestly read it and decide what it says about God, about man, and about the work of Christ. The Bible confronts us with the inescapable person of Jesus. If we let it speak to us, we will find him and find all good things in him.
Additional information:
For readers interested in an accessible (i.e. non-scholarly) book about the reliability of the New Testament accounts of the life of Jesus Christ, I recommend Lee Strobel’s The Case for Christ. See also The Rest of the Story on infidels.org for good review of Strobel’s book by atheist Jeffrey Jay Lowder.
October 21, 2009 at 12:42 pm |
Thanks, Ben, for posting this essay. If anyone is having trouble reading it, you can download the .html or Word version directly from my website:
http://www.chem.yale.edu/~tully/nashenvi/essays.html
-Neil
October 21, 2009 at 1:44 pm |
As always, Neil, it’s a pleasure to read your well-thought-out and honest arguments. I have not had a chance to do more than skim, and I’m nowhere near prepared to tackle this subject comprehensively, so for now I’ll just toss in a tangential point.
You say: However, I disagree that this argument applies only to Christians; it also applies to skeptics. Can anyone truly be said to be a completely neutral, disinterested observer when it comes to the Bible? A skeptic has implicitly or explicitly built his whole life on a view of reality which assumes that Jesus is not God, that he does not call us to repent and place our trust in him. Doesn’t he then also have an inherent bias to find the Bible historically and theologically unreliable?
I think there’s certainly SOME amount of bias in the non-believer’s stance, and I’d chalk most of this up to pride. It’s hard for anyone to land on one side of an argument and then, presumably after receiving more information or insight, jump to the other side without feeling *some* twinge of embarrassment that they are second-guessing themselves. I truly wish this wasn’t the case, since I don’t think there should be any shame in considering new information and reaching a new conclusion, but there it is. We don’t trust that others will see this as anything other than a sign of weakness.
That said, I think there’s a big difference between this sort of pride-based inertia (and certainly that depends on the amount of pride invested) and an allegiance to a stance from a moral basis. Most religious creeds praise faith. Those who maintain faith in the face of doubt and other challenges are lauded. To doubt, while it may be accepted as natural, is certainly not held up as an ideal.
I HAVE believed one side of this argument fully and then crossed over to the other side based on an honest assessment of the information, logic, insights available to me. I overcame that pride-based inertia once (as WELL as some fear-base inertia, some social comfort-based inertia, some moral concern, etc.) and landed on the other side. You are free to suggest otherwise, but in my experiencing of this transition there was no payoff beckoning me to the other side, except that that explanation of things resonated as more true to me. That’s really all I got out of the switch… feeling like I was being more honest with myself.
I’m not suggesting that this can’t or hasn’t happened in both directions. I’m just saying that if there is a code of atheism saying it’s wrong or weak or silly to doubt the atheist stance, I don’t subscribe to that code, and I don’t accept that dedication to that premise is what’s keeping me on this side. I truly believe that if I encounter a persuasive logical argument demonstrating that the existence of some god or a specific god is more likely than not, that I would be willing to switch again.
What’s “persuasive”? Well, that’s really why I don’t like to go too hard into these debates, because at some point, we aren’t arguing about whether x=y or what the evidence is, but rather how persuaded we are but a given argument or piece of evidence.
October 21, 2009 at 2:14 pm |
Hi Thor,
When it comes to the gospel I think that there is an “inertia” which goes beyond mere intellectual embarrassment. Certainly, it does take humility to admit that we’re wrong, but I agree that you (and many people) have changed there minds about many important ideas for the sake of intellectual honesty.
So I don’t think that intellectual pride is what acts as an obstacle to faith in God. In fact, God as an intellectual proposition is not all that threatening. I think it is relatively easy to give intellectual assent to the existence of some nebulous Prime Mover in the universe. But it is a very different thing to accept the personal, transcendent God of the Bible, to lay yourself at the feet of Jesus and ask for his mercy. There is something at the root of the human soul which desperately wants to avoid a real God. Can you honestly say that you would not feel any discomfort in coming to the conclusion that God exists, that you have broken his laws, that you deserve his wrath, and that the death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ is your only hope for forgiveness and reconciliation with him? I think there is a barrier in every human heart that desperately wants to keep God out, because it recognizes that we are guilty before him.
As I said before, I think that ultimately only the gospel can remove that emotional and spiritual barrier in our hearts. As long as we believe that God is “out to get us”, we will flee from him. It’s only when we see that in Jesus Christ, God is offering us full forgiveness will we begin to let down our defenses. Christianity does not say: “Here are the rules. If you are very, very good God will take you to heaven, but if you break them God will send you to hell.” It says: “Here are the rules. You have broken them all and deserve God’s wrath. But God so loved the world that he sent his Son to take the punishment you deserve so that you can be accepted by God not on the basis of your goodness, but on the basis of his mercy.” Until we begin to see that the gospel is indeed good news, I think there will always be insurmountable barriers to our belief.
Anyway, read the rest of the essay and tell me what you think of it. Actually, it might be helpful to read the Price book too. Have you read it?
-Neil
October 21, 2009 at 2:34 pm |
Neil,
I suppose this would be a good place to start in responding to your point.
Do you agree, logically, that the likelihood that there is SOME god encompasses the likelihood that the god of the Bible is a reality? Because I’m not even swayed by any arguments I’ve heard for the likely existence of SOME god. It would seem to me that trying to evaluate whether I believe in Christ when I can’t even find justification to expect the existence of ANY generic god would be jumping the gun. The Christianity hypothesis is a more detailed version of the god hypothesis.
“There is something at the root of the human soul which desperately wants to avoid a real God.” In the event that this is true, and my own logic and quest for knowledge and truth is being sabotaged by my fear of accepting Jesus, who actually makes perfect logical sense once my invisible logic-distorting-fear-goggles are removed, what do you propose I do about it? Honestly and openly considering the hypothesis hasn’t done anything for me. Do I need to buy into the hypothesis fully against my own analysis and better judgment? How long must I stay in this “This seems false to me, but I’m believing it anyway, because that’s what it says to do.” state of mind before the goggles come off? Frankly, I don’t have enough time on this earth to try out all of the different worldviews that claim this pre-acceptance as a prerequisite to revelation.
October 21, 2009 at 5:28 pm |
As I read your post, Neil, I found myself having the same question Thor posed to you. If I can’t find a good enough reason to believe in ANY God, what is it about Jesus (or Sathya Sai Baba, or Zeus) that you expect me to be swayed by? I find myself, more and more, bored by arguments about specific little gods. They are too tiny, too human, too unbelievable, frankly.
But, I’m curious about what you say about Christianity and what it’s all about…
The system the god you believe in set up, is one where he creates these little playthings (humans) and then tells them that even though he created everything in their little souls, oops, they are innately evil, and that all they have to do, so as not to go to the scariest place imaginable (the place they go by default, at death, due to the ‘oops’), is praise/worship him and give up all the human qualities he supposedly bestowed upon us. And then (and ONLY then), he’ll let us live without permanent torment.
Awesome guy.
I don’t think it sounds like good news at all. Even if I did believe it was true, which I don’t, your description there would still sound completely f’d up, to me, and I would wonder why my god was such an uncreative, cruel and unimaginably petty being.
It’s worth noting, too, that there was a time in my adult life when I looked at the gospels with reverence. I just don’t anymore, because they make no sense (as anything but a story/legend).
CCD,
Ben
October 21, 2009 at 10:44 pm |
Thor,
In my essay, I simply pointed out that bias cuts both ways and therefore all of us need to recognize our bias when we come to these issues.
In answer to your question “what do you propose I do about it?” The answer is simply: seek God. Spend time reading the Bible, trying to understand who Jesus was and what he taught. Find a church that believes the Bible and is trying to live as followers of Jesus. It may sound like hollow advice, but Jesus said “seek and you will find.” In fact, the Bible goes even further than that. It says that ultimately it is not we who seek out God, but God who seeks out us.
Ben, what do you mean that God requires us to “give up all the human qualities he bestowed on us”? The Bible tends to see salvation in exactly the opposite way. Jesus comes not to enslave us, but to rescue us; he came not to be served, but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many. I can see being terrified of God when he comes to you with a sword in His hand demanding obedience, but what do you say to God when he comes to you with nails in his hands and pleads with you to repent? In answer to your question: “what is it about Jesus?”, I would have to point to the gospel. Christianity is the only religion that I know of that says we are not saved because of our goodness, but entirely because of God’s grace to the undeserving. Only Christianity says that God suffers for us, accepting not good, righteous, holy people but poor, miserable sinners like me.
-Neil
October 21, 2009 at 11:01 pm |
Thor,
I should have added that when I say “seek God”, I don’t mean that seeking him is less than seeking to know if He exists. We certainly need to ask questions like: does God exist? What is he like? Is Jesus who he said he is? Obviously, a major point of this essay was addressing whether the New Testament documents are reliable. If Jesus did not live and die and rise from the dead, then Christianity is false no matter how comforting it is.
But although seeking God is not less than evaluating the truth of certain propositions, it has to be more than merely intellectual. Until we realize that the question of God’s existence is one of life or death, that it is the central question that we need answered, then we are not really seeking.
Anyway, take your time and read the essay. I’m hoping it will help address the question of whether the Bible is a reliable account of who Jesus was and what he said and did.
-Neil
October 22, 2009 at 4:45 am |
Neil,
I’m sure I’ll find an opportunity at work today to be distracted.
I’m conflicted. I know your stuff is well worth reading…but it is VERY long.
Brian
October 22, 2009 at 1:58 pm |
Neil –
Like Thor, I have not had a chance to fully review your essay. I skimmed parts here and there. And what I am about to say may come as a shock to you… I think that it’s very possible that you are right.
In your criticisms of the work at hand that is.
I do find it interesting that you use Bart Ehrmann to substantiate your arguments against Price. Bart Ehrmann’s Misquoting Jesus was very influential on me in fueling my scepticism of the veracity of scripture. He demonstrated admirably to me how the books of the New Testament had been manipulated, either deliberately or accidentally, by human beings to the extent that the version of Christianity that was officially codified in 325 required the suppression of other gospels, other versions, etc that may have painted a very different picture of who or what Jesus was.
It made me realize that everything I know or knew about God was because someone told me it was so, or because it had been written in a book that someone had told me was authoritative. But when I tried to validate that authority independently, the only validation came from itself.
It would be like me declaring myself to be the smartest person in the world, and the only proof I offer up is that because I am the smartest person in the world, and I say that I am the smartest person in the world, it must be so.
The problem is that there is so much evidence that lies outside of that authority. There are plenty of other really smart people who might disagree with me.
Now, a minor point. You ask: “Can anyone truly be said to be a completely neutral, disinterested observer when it comes to the Bible?” Maybe not, but you then contrast and compare Christians to atheists, but you skip over the middle world of agnostics completely. I have no axe to grind. I don’t want to wipe out belief in a god or gods or convince anyone to believe in one. But I see as much evidence for a god as against. Meaning exactly zero, other than the written statements of men, dating from thousands of years ago through a couple of minutes ago.
Is it possible that there is a divine power, a personal god inspiring those writings? Sure. Just as possible as that there is exactly nothing but the wishful hopings of men inspiring them.
So… you may say that I still have an axe to grind. And you are probably right. But I think that my axe is simply that the authority you cite is not, in my mind, sufficiently authoritative.
Do with that what you will.
- Pos
October 23, 2009 at 8:51 am |
Hi Posol’stvo,
I haven’t “read Misquoting Jesus”, but we used Ehrman’s textbook “The New Testament” in a class I took at Princeton. As far as skeptics go, I him to be far more thoughtful than Price. Nonetheless, in flipping through his textbook recently I was shocked at the flimsiness of many of his arguments. I think the key problem with critical biblical scholars is that they tend to neglect evidence that contradicts their theories. I’d be curious to hear your opinion of my essay when you get a chance to read it. Although it may not address Ehrman’s arguments specifically, you may find some information that challenges his general conclusions.
Regarding the neutrality of agnostics, are you really neutral about the possibility that you stand condemned before God’s justice and that Jesus Christ is your only hope for forgiveness? I agree that you might not know (i.e. be agnostic about) whether he is or not, but the possibility that he is should, if you are really thinking about it, must have some emotional impact on you. In the same way, if someone tells me that I have pancreatic cancer, I may not know whether to believe him. I may after much thought come to the conclusion that I really don’t have enough evidence to know whether he is telling the truth or lying. But surely my genuine agnosticism doesn’t alter the fact that I have a strong emotional preference! If I simply shrug and say it doesn’t matter, it shows either that I haven’t really grasped the seriousness of situation or that despite my claimed agnosticism I am actually quite certain that I am healthy.
If we really are open to the possibility that the Bible was divinely inspired, that it is God’s message to humanity warning us of hell and offering us heaven, then should this be the most burning question in your life? Actually, this is why I really appreciate Ben and the other people on this blog who, although they disbelieve in God, recognize that His existence is the central question that we have to settle as human beings.
To quote C.S. Lewis:
Here is door, behind which, according to some people, the secret of the universe is waiting for you. Either that’s true or it isn’t. And if it isn’t, then what the door really conceals is simply the greatest fraud, the most colossal “sell” on record. Isn’t it obviously the job of every man (that is a man and not a rabbit) to try to find out which, and then to devote his full energies either to serving this tremendous secret or to exposing and destroying this gigantic humbug?
-Neil
October 23, 2009 at 11:43 am
Neil,
I know that this response was addressed to Pos and not me, but I’d like to jump in and respond to your questions about the neutrality of agnosticism.
I think perhaps you (and Lewis, for that matter) are giving too much credit to the relative importance of the god/Jesus hypothesis in the minds of those who see that hypothesis as just one of many such claims and assertions that don’t ring true.
Some followers of Jesus say that we stand condemned before God’s justice and that Jesus Christ is our only hope for forgiveness. Some say that we must live good lives in order to prepare ourselves for Heaven. Some folks say that Allah is God, and denying this is an unforgivable affront to him. The list of contradictory hypotheses and requirements goes on and on.
And for me, your particular brand of the Jesus hypothesis seems no more likely than the Allah hypothesis. And the more of these “all important” questions I’m asked to consider, the less I can “devote my full energies” to answering any one of them. They all seem to stand in condemnation of each other competing for my limited attention. Each is saying, “I can’t persuade you that you ought to believe me, but what if I’m true?”
October 23, 2009 at 12:24 pm
Hi Thor,
I chose Christianity as the example because posol said that he believed it was possible that the Bible was divinely inspired. If he is truly agnostic about the Bible being divinely inspired, then I believe emotional neutrality is impossible. The same would be true of belief in the Koran or the Book of Mormon or any book or system of belief that purports to tell us about God. The same is true for me as well! I am not neutral when it comes to discussing the Bible or the Koran or the book of Mormon because I am a Christian and I have deep personal commitments to Christianity.
I agree that as finite human beings with limited time we can’t possibly investigate every religious truth claim, but I disagree that we’re consequently absolved from looking at any religious truth claims. Yes, the plurality of religions makes things more difficult, but if we’re serious about the question “Does God exists and who is He?”, then the difficulty is irrelevant. It’s a question we need to answer, regardless of the difficulty. Lewis’ point in the rest of the essay is that avoiding the question entirely simply because you can’t be bothered is not an intellectually honest option.
As to whether the claims of Christianity ring true, I think the place to start is with the reliability of the Bible. If the Bible gives an accurate picture of the life and teaching of Jesus, then we need to decide whether we will accept of reject him.
Ultimately, the question is not “what do we think of Christianity”, but “what do we think of Jesus”?
October 26, 2009 at 11:04 am
Neil –
Your comment is interesting and intriguing to me, but I think that I need to make something clear – I am and have been an ethnic Christian. Meaning, I was raised in a Christian household, celebrating Christian holidays, attending Christian services. My great grandfather, grandfather, and two of my uncles are in the priesthood. My mother was such a devout believer that I suppressed my doubt until after she had passed away. So that’s my context.
And in this context, your analogy of the pancreatic cancer is somewhat meaningless. To turn your analogy around, picture this. Imagine that you were told from a very early age that you had pancreatic cancer. You didn’t know what that meant, but what the hell, you went along with it. All the grown-ups you know are telling you so, and they have never lied to you before. So you go through life accepting that you have pancreatic cancer.
Now, when you get older, you learn that cancer is a disease. And that it is fatal. But all of the symptoms that the books tell you you should be experiencing are not present. Maybe at that point you chalk it up to all the treatments you have undergone all your life.
And eventually you mention to your doctor that you have pancreatic cancer, and he looks at you like you have grown two heads, because your pancreas is fine. So you ask “Is it possible that all those treatments eradicated the cancer?” and he replies “maybe, but I would think that we’d see some sort of residuals and we don’t.”
At this point, did you have cancer or not? We don’t have access to test results, other than those you just did with your doctor. All you have are the testimony of authorities who swear that you had pancreatic cancer. The best we can say is that you do *not* have it now, and the evidence indicates that you possibly never did.
So now, I come along and tell you that you have pancreatic cancer. I’m guessing that you might be a wee bit skeptical. Especially since my authority for stating such looks and sounds like the same authority your authorities used previously.
Okay. That analogy is pretty well played out. But I think it illustrates why, although I understand your point, I don’t agree. My stance is simply that we cannot “know” whether there is a God as long as we’re bound to this universe and existence. We can guess, hope, and surmise, but we cannot KNOW. Indeed, if I had to make an educated guess based on what I do wager I “know” I would say that I lean away from belief.
Yes, I place my faith in science. In repeatable and testable models. And this is likely due to the fact that I have experienced many things in my life, but never anything that could not adequately be explained by the laws of nature and science.
That said, would I wager my soul on it? Not on your life. I am holding out hope that I will one day attain the knowledge and understanding that I cannt attaoin now, but am anticipating that will come after death, if I do not instead slip into a dreamless sleep of oblivion at that point. Neither option upsets me, and each has equal amounts of evidence to support it — in other words, none. Either is fine. In each case, I must live my life in a way that is in accordance with my morals independent of whether one or the other is true.
But you cannot get me to say that I know that Jesus was God. Because I just don’t.
And I wager that you don’t either. And I wager the pope doesn’t either.
There’s no shame in not knowing. I used to think that there was. But there isn’t.
My parents are/were very educated people. Very smart people. And yet, occasionally they would assert something that was fact that later turned out to be opinion. Or scientifically disproven. No shame on them – there are infinite things about which I am ignorant. But that did teach me that no authority is absolutely correct.
Including Bart Ehrmann. Including Robert Price. Including Neil Shenvi. Including Posol’stvo. Including Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, and Paul. Including John, Paul, George and Ringo. Etc.
So there you have it. My perspective and stance on what is knowable or even what knowing means may not be satisfactory to you, but in reality, that’s not my concern. I don’t have any desire to change your opinion, either. As long as you treat others with respect, it has no bearing on me or my family what you believe to be true. And what I believe has no bearing on you and yours.
I wish you well, and all I hope is that you can understand that I come from this perspective and that you can come to peace with it.
- Pos
October 26, 2009 at 11:22 am
Well, your last comment (to Thor) demonstrates that I made my point poorly. I actually don’t believe that the Bible *was* divinely inspired. Possible? Sure. Just as possible is that it was bestowed on us by the kind demigod Quetzalcoatl (or whatever). I think that the writers of the books of the bible may have thought they were divinely inspired, and the Nicaean gathering did as well. But that there is no evidence to prove it one way or another. Other than the fact that they say that they were.
There was this other dude I heard about who thought he was divinely inspired… Name of David Koresh. Was he?
You say that we should start with the bible and see whether it gives an accurate picture of the life and teaching of Jesus. Unless you have a time machine and are able to learn ancient Aramaic, I’m not sure how you plan to evaluate that question. Every shred of evidence we have for it is biased. Every shred of evidence against it is biased.
If you read a history, I assert that it tells you more about the age in which it was written than it does about the time that it was written about.
October 26, 2009 at 12:57 pm
Pos,
I think I understand your position, but I wonder if the relative peace with which you view your present uncertainty has to do with the options that you’re considering. You believe that at death, perhaps you will either “attain the knowledge and understanding that [you] cannot attain now [presumably by meeting God in person]” or “slip into a dreamless sleep of obliovion [if God does not exist". If these are the only two options, then I can see how you might feel neutral to them both. But neither of these options is what Jesus taught. He taught that each of us must repent now, in this life, or face eternal damnation (see Luke 13:1-5, Matt. 25:1-46, John 3:16-21). If this is a possibility, can you really respond that "[None of these options] upsets me. [Any of them] is fine”?
I hope that all of you will take this question seriously. I can truly say that I’ve grown to love you all and I am writing to you because I truly believe that unless you repent, you will spend eternity apart from God in hell. This is not a merely academic question. I am (in my better moments) not simply trying to look clever and win a debate. I am convinced that God, through Jesus Christ, is offering all of you free forgiveness and a new life if you turn to him. And I am trying to do anything I can to help you overcome your intellectual difficulties with Christianity so that you can receive this forgiveness. I hope you’ll read this essay in the spirit in which it was intended, not merely as an intellectual exercise, but asking yourself seriously “Who is Jesus and how should I respond to him?”.
-Neil
October 26, 2009 at 2:49 pm
Neil –
I appreciate your concern. But on what basis should I choose the Christian path to salvation, as opposed to the Jewish, or the Muslim, or the Buddhist, or the Pagan, or the … (I could just start listing them all off, but I think you get the point.)
Up till now, the only reasons given for going with Christ over the others are a. because Christ said so, and b. because that’s what everyone else around me has been doing.
And, having examined things in my own heart, here’s the thing: I truly don’t believe in your version of eternal damnation.
I truly don’t.
There is nothing that I have experienced yet that would make that fit into my cognition in the least.
And, to thicken the soup, I believe that the hell that you so fervently believe in was made up by religious leaders to make their flock more fearful of straying from the accepted norms. Ergo, easier to control. (It’s a bad world out there, outside the village. Bad things can happen. You’re better off staying right here, safe in the bosom of your clan. Mind you, we want you to act right, or we’ll have to throw you out. Out there. Where the bad things are…)
Call me a cynic. Call me someone who was bullshitted one too many times. Or call me a realist. Or call me a heretic. (Just don’t call me late for dinner!) The labels don’t make anything more or less real. For me or for you.
I appreciate your concern for me, I truly do. It’s nice that someone might be worried for my well being. But I think you might be wasting your energy, energy that might be better spent elsewhere. Which is your prerogative.
Peace.
October 22, 2009 at 10:47 pm |
Neil,
Just a couple of quick questions: Is there any written evidence that the four writers of the gospels were also members of his entourage, the 12 deciples? Also did any of them claim to know or have actually seen Jesus themselves.
I am asking you because you seem to be rigorous in documenting what you say.
thanks in advance
ED
October 23, 2009 at 3:33 am |
Ed,
I want to be sure that I understand your question. First, the Synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) never explicitly identify their author! I think there is evidence that the traditional attributions are correct, but we need to be careful about what the Bible states and what we infer. Only the gospel of John explicitly identifies its author and states that he was an apostle (see John 21:15-25
although John probably didn’t physically write down the gospel himself; I think his testimony was probably compiled by his students shortly after he died). Mark and Luke were NOT apostles; Mark was probably an associate of the apostle Peter (based on the writings of church historians from the first and second centuries and from internal evidence in the Gospel of Mark) and Luke was probably an associate of the apostle Paul (based again on the testimony of ancient writers and internal evidence from Acts). Matthew, if the traditional attribution is correct, was a former tax collector whom Jesus called to be an apostle (see Mark 2:1-22).
So if you only asking about whether the gospels were written by apostles themselves, then the answer is: yes in the case of John, probably in the case of Matthew (again, no explicit statement in the text so we can’t be sure), and no in the case of Mark and Luke (who were certainly not apostles).
But I think you may be asking “are the gospels historically accurate?” or “are the gospels based on eyewitness testimony?” and in that case, the answer is yes. Again, see my essay! I think there is abundant evidence that the gospels were based on the eyewitness accounts of the apostles and therefore accurately record the words and deeds of Jesus. Remember the apostles were mainly uneducated fishermen who would not have been fluent in Greek (the language in which the New Testament was written). The writers of the gospels relied on their testimony. Take the gospel of Luke as an example. In Luke 1:1-4, the author (who was not himself an eyewitness of Jesus’ life) states how he gathered the material for his work. He lists three sources: 1) written sources (v.1) 2) eyewitness testimony (v. 2), and 3) personal investigation (v.3). There is an abundance of internal and external evidence to confirm that the gospels are historically accurate and record the teaching of the twelve disciples, the earliest followers of Jesus.
Did I assess your question correctly?
On a related note, the earliest documents we have are actually the letters of the apostle Paul (written between 20-30 years after Jesus’ death), and in these letters Paul does explicitly claim to have seen the risen Jesus (see 1 Cor. 9:1, 1 Cor. 15:1-8).
-Neil
October 26, 2009 at 2:47 pm |
Neil,
Thanks for the reply to my earlier post. And yes, you did address my questions.
Regarding the Oct. 26th comments, do you have any ideas about Jesus’ motivation for granting forgiveness to anyone who asks for it? I find this common doctrine to be difficult to understand If we say that Jesus[god] just wants all his human creations to be saved, then why did he burden some of us with analytic minds that interfere with our ability to just accept the forgiveness? I think the strongest argument that believers can make here may be to assert that none of what god does has to make sense to our limited minds. The religion I was raised in went to great lengths however, to make theology seem rational.
Your astute arguments on this blog attempt to make it all rational as well.
I guess my point is that I have a real problem with a system that allows a person who has been a real shit all his life, and then one day, drying out in jail from a heroin habit, finds Jesus and gets saved. Meanwhile an otherwise moral, upright atheist goes to eternal torment because he didn’t kiss the ring, so to speak. The only way I can rationalize this and other religious contradictions along the way, is to say that it doesn’t matter if any of it is True. They say you just have to believe because God says so, and he doesn’t have to play by any rules. I just can’t go there anymore.
October 26, 2009 at 6:40 pm |
Hi Edmund,
You asked “do you have any ideas about Jesus’ motivation for granting forgiveness to anyone who asks for it?” I think the Bible makes it very clear:
“When [Jesus] saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.”
God’s motivation for extending forgiveness to anyone, even the immoral heroin addict, is simply his love, mercy, and unmerited compassion on miserable sinners. No one is any more deserving than anyone else. I am no better than that filthy herion addict; I am in no way more deserving of God’s blessing or love. But God can offer us his love and forgiveness freely through the substitutionary death of Jesus Christ. Jesus took the punishment that we (I!) deserve, so that we could have the acceptance that he deserved. Purely out of love; purely out of mercy.
Edmund, I can understand your struggle, because this was absolutely an issue I struggled with as a non-Christian and as a new Christian. I couldn’t understand why Jesus had to die for God to forgive us. But in the end, I asked myself, “If this is the way that God has chosen to forgive us, who am I to refuse his mercy? If it cost God this much to forgive me, will I be so ungrateful as to demand a different way?”
I’d highly recomment reading and thinking carefully about Luke 15 and Luke 18:9-14 in which Jesus give several parables which illustrate very clearly God’s compassion on even the “bad” people. Indeed, only those who realize that they are bad people will ever feel the need for a Savior.
If you believe that the Bible is general historically reliable, I would start reading the gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John). Jesus’ teaching may actually help answer many of your theological question.
As to overcoming intellectual difficulties, are there any issues in particular that you have?
-Neil
October 26, 2009 at 6:56 pm |
Hi Neil,
On the 21st, you said that Jesus came to rescue us. What do you suppose he came to rescue us from? His father? If so, why do you think that ransom HAD to be paid? Do you ever wonder why that was? What does it make you feel about the father’s wrath? Why are we naturally ‘undeserving’ if we are created by God? Since that’s what you believe, why do you think God chose to go with ‘undeserving’ over ‘deserving’ when he created us? What do you think that says about the God you believe in? Do you have the audacity to say that you might have done it differently? Or do you think God did all of it perfectly? From a human perspective, I tend to see the God you believe in as a pretty uninspiring character, and one I want to be apart from, if I have a choice (not that this drives my life at all, because I don’t believe he is even there) because he doesn’t strike me as a better ‘person’ than PLENTY of the people I already know.
You asked what I meant by our ‘human qualities’, and I guess the first one I would list is our ability to Reason. It is exactly my ability to reason that has led me AWAY from believing in Christianity, and religion in general (except as a compilation of a HUMAN attempt to define ‘good’ in dogmatic, local terms).
Also, do you really think that Jesus was born of a virgin or walked on water or turned a few loaves into hundreds or water into wine, or cured blindness, lepers, etc? What about the other miracles? My thought is that Jesus probably did exist, in some way, but not in the way he was described in the Bible. But his likely existence as a man, for a few years in his 30’s, is a very different thing than Jesus being the Son of God, born of a virgin, etc. I tend to think the God claims about Jesus are ‘all about the miracles’. Without them, he is a charismatic preacher with some interesting ideas about socializing that were not entirely new, but were also not widespread.
I’d like to thank you, too, for worrying for me and my soul. I think it’s really nice that you feel love towards your neighbor and worry about their potential torture at the hands of your God, but I respectfully request that you not pray for me. I’d would much prefer you spent your valuable time (and I do think your time is valuable) doing something else. Is that a legit request? I hope you don’t take it as an insult, because I don’t mean it that way. Thanks man. Love you too.
CCD,
Ben
October 27, 2009 at 6:45 am |
Neil,
Well, I have LOTS of intellectual issues with Christianity! Chief among them is that I cannot believe in a God who behaves in a fasion I would find petty and immature behavior for another human. I cannot respect that, from anyone. Of course, I am making the assumption that reason has a place at the table in this discussion. Your assertion that, regardless of how it may seem to one’s intellect, in the final analysis we MUST believe and SUBMIT or we will face the fiery torment forever, renders any further discourse pointless.
Another issue I have is best described by the question: If an omniscient, omnipotent God created the universe, did He also create evil? If not, where did it come from? The boilerplate answer I get from most preachers is that God made good and mankind managed to pervert it somehow. This answer does not serve. Why would a creation of God wish to pervert His goodness? From whence came the evil desire to do such a thing? Once again we are at the problem of starting points.
If god exists, and I sincerely hope such an entity does, Then I am sure such a one would be too complex for us to understand. Therefore, I think it presumptuous of any man to say: God wants thus and so. Or: If a man behaves in this way, God will blah, blah, blah.
Perhaps your response to this may be that God himself told us what he wants. My problem with this assertion is that an omnipotent entity could certainly have made the communication more clear and definate. And it would have no motive to make such communication a one-time event followed by thousands of years of silence, broken only by an ocassional stigmata type semi-miracle and the famous Jesus tortilla.
I could go on, but I won’t.
October 27, 2009 at 7:35 am |
Ben and Edmund,
These are good, difficult question which I’m not sure that I have the answers to. And frankly, I think on some of these issues the Bible may be silent. I can give you my thoughts on these issues(actually, I think I have addressed some of them in the “Fewer Americans Believe in Hell” post), but before I do, I’d like to suggest that these questions aren’t exactly rational objections but rather alternative religious beliefs.
For instance, when we say “I can’t believe in a God who could send people to hell”, what I think we mean is “This idea is so repugnant to me, that I refuse to believe it.” But that’s not exactly a rational argument. It would be like saying “The idea that a terrible disease like cancer exists is so repugnant to me, that I refuse to believe it.” But I don’t know if our feelings are a very good criteria for determining objective truth. Furthermore, I think it is fair to ask the question “what evidence do you have that a vengeful, petty god like Zeus or Baal could not exist? Where did you get the idea that God is a good and loving God?” For millenia, plenty of cultures believed that the gods were petty and vengeful. In fact, I think it’s possible to argue historically that as modern Westerners our belief that God (if He does exist) must be a loving God actually derives from the Bible, even if we don’t believe in the Bible itself. The ancient Greeks and Romans from whom much of our legal system, culture and philosophy derives believed in precisely these petty, vengeful gods that we find so distasteful. It was largely the influence of Jewish and Christian thought that introduced the idea of a personal, loving God. So on what basis, if not the Bible, do we believe that God ought to be good and loving? And if we believe on the basis of biblical revelation, then how can we reject the biblical teaching that God is not only good and loving but also just and morally pure and angry at our evil, hatred, and sin?
Any thoughts on this?
All that being said, I think you are making a terrible mistake when you characterize the God of the Bible as petty. I can understand how a God who sits in heaven, insulated from pain and suffering, throwing down lightning bolts in judgment could be distasteful. But how do you answer the Christian claim that God himself became a poor carpenter, born in a back alley, whose friends deserted him, whose family thought he was insane, who was homeless, who was mocked and ridiculed and spat upon, who was nailed to a cross weeping and died crying out for mercy God to have mercy on those who killed him? Indeed, only the Bible is crazy enough to say that yes, God is so morally pure and just and angry at sin that we deserve death, but that God is so loving that on the cross he Himself paid the debt that we owed so that we could be forgiven. I can see being angry at some generic cariacature of God, but how is it possible to be angry at the God who hung on the cross?
-Neil
November 29, 2009 at 3:35 am |
The questions you ask are what the Bible is all about answering. God created us to love. He did so because He IS love, and His love is for us. But the nature of love is that it is free. Thus we must freely choose to sacrifice ourselves for others if we are going to fulfill the destiny for which we were created. Thus we must suffer temptation to reach the point of loving. And thus not all will choose what we were created to have the opportunity of freely choosing. Therefore evil will exist.
Moreover, without evil existing, the human mind could probably not grasp what good is, so as to choose good. And so in that obscurity we would just sink into something that is necessarily less than good. I’d suggest that “the tree of knowledge of good and evil” pertains to this. The human race chose to know what evil was… ultimately by doing it… if not mastering it. But it was in God’s plan, that the human race could ultimately reject that evil. In the same way, an infant, created innocent, gradually learns defiance. But that is for the good, for without learning defiance, the child could never learn to reject defiance.
October 27, 2009 at 6:49 am |
I won’t go as far as Ben and demand that you not pray for me. I think that takes a turn toward animosity that I just don’t feel. The fact is, if you’re praying for me and you are a believer it makes a difference in your life. Great! Keep it up.
When a loved one died, a friend who is Catholic sent me a card telling me that she lit a candle for my loved one. My initial reaction – truly – was “Why?” But on further reflection, it was just another way for this friend to let me know that her thoughts were with me at that time. And I took that as a compliment.
So, pray for me if that’s your desire. Just don’t take it as any kind of personal affront if I don’t return the favor in an apples to apples sort of way. I’ll maybe “pray for you” by picking you up at the airport, or bailing you out of jail, or buying you a bowl of soup.
October 27, 2009 at 7:23 am |
Pos, it was a request, and specifically noted that it was not an attempt at insult/animosity. It is a question of what is best for the world, in my opinion.
Neil and I have had a private convo about it, actually, and I let him know that his praying for me doesn’t bother me all that much. I just really don’t want him to waste a second on me, unless if means SO much to him, that my request is less important to you than the act of praying for me. I mean, I don’t believe that his action of praying for me will make any difference in my life, and therefore, I want him to spend his time efficiently. In my opinion, it would be more efficient (especially for a guy with SO much talent, and so little time to use it) for him to skip me in your prayers.
That said, if a friend can’t help it, it’s ok. I won’t be offended if you can’t stand the thought of taking me out of your prayers. If it brings you so much pain to skip my prayer that it outweighs the need to respect a friends request for the efficient use of your brilliance (in Neil’s case, I mean), then so be it. I’m ok with folks praying for me in that case, I guess. But only because I don’t want Neil or anyone to suffer.
Anyhow, I hope I didn’t offend. It’s just that, in my perfect world, I wouldn’t want people praying for me. I’d prefer their time be used in action, right here, today, on earth (like you said, buying soup, bailing out of jail, etc.).
CCD,
Ben
October 27, 2009 at 1:04 pm |
Ben –
Yeah, when I re-read what you said, I picked that up. But I thought the rest of my comment held enough water to stand on its own.
Sorry I misconstrued your intent. So, in my comment replace the word “demand” with “request.”
I will say that it makes me feel a little weird when someone tells me that they are praying for me, (like “Why on earth would you want to do that?”) but I accept it. I think I’d fel the same way if someone told me that they were sending good kharma my way, if I felt that they meant it in the eastern sense. But if someone says “I’m hoping it all works out well for you”, none of that weird feeling is there.
There’s something about that “I’m praying for you” line that makes me feel like I should somehow reciprocate, and I just can’t. Not unlike finding out that a girl you are just friends with (and are happy with it that way) really really likes you as much more than a friend. (Or so I have heard from my popular friends.)
October 29, 2009 at 10:05 am |
Neil,
You misunderstand, I think. I am not angry at Jesus, and I do not think he was petty or vengeful. If the gospels can be believed, He was a socialist, peacenik rable rouser who harmed no one. I kind of like the character. My problem is with people who describe the Christian god as omnipotent, omniscient, all merciful, and good. This god then goes on to wreak horrific penalties on anyone who won’t bow down and admit his own unworthiness. In my opinion, Jesus has not much to do with christianity today, and with good reason: The teachings of the man Jesus are not compatible with capitalism. Americans, certainly have made their choice in this matter and have found a way out of the conflict. The answer is simple. You just give lip service to Jesus, ignore his instructions, and go for the money! True enough, not all christians behave this way, but enough do to ensure the survival of the churches. If we, as a people, had followed the teachings of Christ, the American Indians would have run us off the continent by 1500.
As for god being so morally pure that he hates sin so much…. but was willing to die on the cross to pay the debt for mankind, and all one has to do to take advantage of the offer is say thanks…. This is a concept so bizarre that it is difficult for me to take seriously. If jesus was devine then this scenario demonstrates that the workings of the mind of god are irrational to the human mind. Therefore I am left with two possiblities: 1. Jesus is not God. 2.God is irrational, and therefore I cannot understand him.
As for the Greek, Roman and Norse gods, You are right they were scary guys, and not very merciful. Salvation did not play a part in these theologies as far as I know. Nor was sin such a big topic. I don’t see how these pagan myths relate to the conversation at hand, since most folks today put them in the myth category. I find Judaism, Christianity, and Islam to be mythical as well, but most people disagree with that assesment. I am happy to allow people their mysticism, if they will respect my right to not participate.
October 29, 2009 at 1:05 pm |
Hi Edmund,
A few things:
First, you are absolutely right that we, as Christians, often dishonor God by the way we live. I apologize if you have had encounters with Christians that have hardened you to Christ. I would only ask that you not let our hypocrisy and sinfulness keep you from Jesus. It’s to Jesus, not to the church or to “Christendom”, that you need to come.
Second, you might want to take another look at the teachings of Jesus himself. He was certainly gentle and compassionate and approachable, and he did teach his followers to live lives of love for God and mercy towards their fellow man. But he also clearly taught about the justice of God, the reality of hell, and the need for repentance (see Luke 13:1-5, and Matt. 25:1-46 among many others).
Third, it’s not a matter of us making some kind of show of “unworthiness” or saying the “magic word” so that God will let us in to heaven. Repentance is not pretending that you are sinful when you really think that you are just fine. Repentance is recognizing that you actually are sinful and justly deserving to be cut off from a morally pure God. When we read over Jesus’ teaching about what it means to live a good, moral life, we begin to realize that not one of us actually lives a good, moral life. Do you really believe that you love God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength and love your neighbor as yourself? I know I don’t. It’s not until we begin to realize that we are deeply flawed and in need of a savior that we begin to see the gospel as good news.
Finally, you say that you’d put Christianity in the category of a myth. Did you take a look at my essay? I think this stance is historically untenable given the evidence we have for the historicity of the New Testament. Perhaps we should return to this issue of the historicity of the NT, since it will ultimately inform the rest of our discussion.
-Neil
October 30, 2009 at 9:35 am |
Ed -
Jesus of the Bible was a socialist? Surely you jest. Or do you simply mean the idealistic philosophy of social concern that masks the reality of Socialism as it exists politically?
Can you imagine Jesus calling on the pharisees to come enforce the ‘correct’ subjective analysis of what actions would be most merciful, and to punish those who didn’t comply?
Jesus was said to be friends with tax collectors and said to render unto Caesar what was Caesar’s, but surely both of these accounts should be interpreted as illustrations of how forgiving he was; he was EVEN a friend to tax collectors; he was trying to draw a contrast between the moral code he was espousing and the coercive government of man.
I’m just having fun, and don’t think for a second you’re speaking of Socialism with a capital “S”, but I just find it truly remarkable that “socialist” and “pacifist” could ever be lumped into one character description. If all Socialists ever did was publish educational pamphlets on how we might treat each other better, I’m sure I’d quite like them.
October 30, 2009 at 9:41 am |
oh yeah… and the pamphlets would have to be published on their own dime.
October 30, 2009 at 5:31 pm |
Thor,
I used the term socialist because when you tell your countrymen to give all their money to the poor, and follow me, somebody else is gonna have to support you since none of your foolowers have a job anymore. But you are right in that the disciples didn’t recieve any support from the government. Let me recant and replace the word socialist with unrealistic hippie.
ED
November 29, 2009 at 3:23 am |
It would only be unrealistic if everyone did it. Jesus said only a few would follow him. As Thoreau said a couple millenia later, “There are nine hundred and ninety-nine patrons of virtue to one virtuous man.”
November 3, 2009 at 7:39 pm |
So does anyone have any questions about the essay itself or the historicity of the New Testament?
November 5, 2009 at 3:35 pm |
Neil,
I must admit that all I’m really feeling up for in this discussion is a la carte responses to specific points as I get to them. Hopefully that will be of some interest to you…
First, I’m sure you’re WAY more experienced (read, this is my first attempt) at biblical referencing, study, history, etc. than me, so bear with me as I dabble. I’ll try to address your direct challenges to Price’s arguments in the order I encounter them in reading through your essay. I’ll try not to skip or gloss over anything, but the honest answer to a lot of them may be “I have no prior knowledge, and have found no worthwhile references from which to comment on this.” And I’ll just get to them as I get to them, even if that’s very slowly.
Alright… So as far as I can see, after a bunch of initial setup and framing of the discussion, the first direct challenge you make is:
["Because Price doesn’t cite any of his sources for the etymology of these names, it’s unclear where his information comes from, but based on the sources listed above, it seems that declaring these narratives fictitious based on the names of the characters is unwarranted."]
First, I think it’s worth noting that there’s no requirement for the base literal translations of these names to show these definitions if the names/words were ever used in this way at a relevant time in history. I’m not going to look into any such arguments, but I think it’s legitimate to consider that, for instance, a term meaning “victor of the people” could easily have been used to reference a king, even if that was not the strict denotation.
Specific names in question:
Martha, Nicodemus: I’ll leave these alone. You conceded the one, and the other is close enough IMO.
Jairus: 1 Chr. 20:5 refers to Elhanan the son of Jair, and the Hebrew word used is יָעִיר (http://www.mechon-mamre.org/p/pt/pt25a20.htm) which, when plugged into a Hebrew-to-English translator tool, yields “wake” (http://translate.google.com/?hl=en#)
Zacchaeus: I an environment where Aramaic, Hebrew, Greek, are all playing off each other, I really don’t think it seems like too much of a stretch to relate “zakkay” from a language of origin to “zakki” in the language they characters in the stories are commonly speaking. That’s often how allegorical names are handled in today’s literature… a word sounds like or rhymes with another word or brings to mind a certain association, whatever the strict etymology.
Proof? Of course not! but this is about recognizing a pattern. If many examples are obvious, and many others fit somewhat, they all help to display the pattern. Just as Jesus reportedly spoke in parables, MANY of the stories in the new testament sound like simplistic parables with names and events and other factors all lining up just so to convey a lesson.
Hmmm… next section’s gonna take some more thought. Ta Ta for now.
November 7, 2009 at 10:28 am |
Hi Thor,
As a theoretical chemist, I unfortunately have no more expertise in ancient Hebrew or Greek than you do! So we’ll have to just make due with external sources. Google Translator is probably not a good tool for examining this issue, since it is working with Modern Hebrew, which can be quite different than ancient Hebrew. For instance, if you put the entire 1 Chr. 20:5 passage into the translator it comes out as: “And there was – no more war, the – the Philistines; smote Elhanan Ben – Lesson (wake), the – bread brother Galit Gati – wood spear, boom Argim”. If you’re interested, there are some great online resources you can use to study the biblical texts in the original languages. Check out:
http://net.bible.org/bible.php
http://bible.cc/
Regarding “Jairus”, I went online and checked again and found all the following sites that the Greek “Jairus” derives from a Hebrew “Jair” meaning “He enlightens”:
http://net.bible.org/strong.php?id=2383
http://strongsnumbers.com/hebrew/2971.htm
http://www.thinkbabynames.com/meaning/1/Jairus
http://www.meaning-of-names.com/hebrew-names/jairus.asp
I think the Google translation you found stems from the fact that there is uncertainty regarding the ancient Hebrew name “Jair” in the Old Testament. It appears, that there are two different words transliterated as J-A-I-R in our English Bibles (see the following list: http://net.bible.org/search.php?search=jair&mode=&scope ) The more common of these derives from the root meaning “God enlightens” ( http://net.bible.org/strong.php?id=02971 ) or possibly the Hebrew root for “forested” ( http://net.bible.org/strong.php?id=03265 ) . However, there is one concordance I found (unfortunately not online) that does link the “Jair” in 1 Chr. 20:5 to the Hebrew root for “awake”. Perhaps this is where Price is deriving his claim? Nonetheless, I have not able to find any site online that interprets the Greek name “Jairus” as meaning “he awakens”. Let me know if you can find other support for the etymology of the Greek name.
I think a more important issue is whether this “allegorical name” argument is a legitimate one given the fleixibility that Price is willing to accept in what the names mean and what constitutes a clearly allegorical name. For instance, in the case of Zaccheus, all sources indicate that this name derives from the Hebrew “Zachariah” meaning “pure” (http://net.bible.org/strong.php?id=2195), not from the Aramaic “zakki”. So we would have to argue that Luke, writing to Greek-speaking Gentiles, is inventing the entire story of Zaccheus based on the fact that Zaccheus’ name sounds like a word meaning “to give alms” in a foreign language not spoken by Luke’s readers (and possibly not spoken by Luke himself!). Or take the case of Jairus. Technically, even if his name did mean “He will awaken” (which I think it clearly does not), doesn’t it strike you as odd that it is his daughter, and not he himself, whom Jesus raises? If this story has been invented as a pure allegory, shouldn’t it be Jairus who is raised? Or shouldn’t his daughter be the one named “Jairus” or the feminine equivalent?
There are 70 individuals given personal names in the Gospels and Acts. Given the flexibility that Price allows in what constitutes an “allegorical name”, I am surprised that he can only find four! After all, Jesus comes to the aid of Lazarus by raising him from the dead and Lazarus’ name mean “whom God helps”! And blind Bartimaeus, who would have been defiled by his blindness in a culture that viewed sickness as a punishment for sin, has a name which derives from the Aramaic word for “defiled or polluted”! Etc, etc… I think it is very eary to read any historical work (try it with the names of the U.S. presidents!) and to construct a huge number of these “allegorical names”, but again that says more about our creativity than about the allegorical content of the material.
Interestingly, there is a more recent analysis of the names of the New Testament which I think is a more rigorous to approach the proper names in the gospels. In “Jesus and the Eyewitnesses” Richard Baukham analyzes the frequency (i.e. how often they appear) of male and female proper names in the New Testament and compares them to what we know about the frequency of male and female proper names in Palestine and outside of Palestine from other sources (other ancient documents, inscriptions, tombs, etc…). He concludes that the distribution of proper names in the New Testament matches very well with what we know of Palestinian Jewish names but does not at all match the distribution of names in the Jewish diaspora outside of Palestine (Click on the link below and look at the data tables in Chapter 4)
http://books.google.com/books?id=ybOa_w8PCcQC&dq=jesus+and+the+eyewitnesses&printsec=frontcover&source=bn&hl=en&ei=Zqn1SqrBB5Gb8AartfDzCQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=4&ved=0CBUQ6AEwAw#v=onepage&q=proper%20names&f=false
I think this data makes it very difficult to claim as Price does that the names in the gospels were created centuries later due to some kind of allegorical significance.
I’m glad you’re reading the essay and would be happy to discuss other issues as they come up.
-Neil
November 29, 2009 at 3:09 am |
To follow up on the question about the authorship of the two gospels that were not written by apostles:
Mark was a Jew, an early convert, and a cousin of Barnabas. Most notably he was the apostle Peter’s translator, and he traveled with Peter to Rome. After Peter’s execution the congregation in Rome persuaded Mark to write down the oral gospel the Peter had taught, and which he had translated repeatedly over the years. So the Gospel of Mark was from Peter’s perspective. It is interesting to note that while John’s gospel also describes Peter’s denial of Jesus (as John was the only other witness to it happening, other than the woman accusing Peter), it doesn’t contain the information known only to Peter, which Mark does contain, namely, “Then Peter remembered the word Jesus had spoken to him… …and wept bitterly.” This gospel is also full of explanations of Jewish traditions, which makes sense, as Peter would have done so when explaining the events to his Roman audience.
Luke is the only gospel truly written as historical research, as opposed to from the perspective of a single witness. Luke was a gentile, a physician, and an early convert and follower of Paul. Luke’s medical training and interest is apparent in the text if one is looking for it, as there is far more attention to medical detail and recounting of healing miracles than in the other gospels. Luke wrote this gospel as well the Book of Acts as a historical research report to someone he addressed as “most excellent Theophilus”. (One theory for who this was, is Theophilus ben Ananus, the Roman-appointed High Priest of the Temple in Jerusalem from 37-41.) As historical research, it is the only gospel to match up events of Jesus’ life with years identified by the year of rule of the various emperors and governors. Luke tells Theophilus that he “carefully investigated everything from the beginning” and then “drew up an orderly account”. I don’t know how many people he interviewed, but Mary was apparently one of them, as his account is full of things from her perspective — from the famous “But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart,” to the events that took place at Jesus’ circumcision, to losing the adolescent Jesus in Jerusalem, to the activities of the women following Jesus’ execution.