In a previous article, I reviewed several arguments that are typically raised in support of the historicity of Jesus but, upon closer inspection, turn out to be of extremely limited evidential value. In this article, I will discuss an approach to arguing from extrabiblical sources that I consider to be much more robust. Whereas in the previous article, I critiqued appeals to direct testimony to the historicity of Jesus (which, at best, only attest to the broad outlines of the gospel story), in this article I will consider incidental allusions in the gospels that are indirectly and undesignedly confirmed by extrabiblical secular sources.

The data surveyed in the ensuing discussion are of varying evidential weights, though all are (in my assessment) significantly more probable on the hypothesis of historical reportage than on its falsehood. The case for the reliability of the gospels must also be recognized as a cumulative one, and one should not expect to be able to rest the entire case on any one of these examples. When the numerous lines of external and internal evidences bearing on the gospel accounts are considered together, one has, in my view, an extremely powerful argument for the substantial trustworthiness of the gospels – that is to say, that the gospel authors are shown to be close up to the facts, well informed, and habitually reliable. This is epistemically relevant to developing a case for the resurrection and in turn, Christianity, since, if the gospels can indeed be shown to be grounded in credible eyewitness testimony, then one has to take seriously the purported nature and variety of the post-resurrection encounters with the risen Jesus as coming from the original apostolic eyewitnesses. Having established the original apostolic claims concerning Jesus’ resurrection, we can then attempt to adjudicate whether these claims are best explained by the apostles attempting to deceive their audiences; by them being honestly mistaken, or by Jesus having risen from the dead.

One may object to the style of argument advanced here on the grounds that an individual living in first-century Palestine would presumably be expected to know these facts, or at the very least could have looked them up. However, of particular interest to our purposes here are difficult facts that the authors get right – that is to say, the evangelists betray knowledge (often very casually and incidentally) of specialized information that would have been hard to have access to unless they were close up both temporally and geographically to the events of which they wrote. I am not talking here of facts that would have been widely known and easily accessible, such as who was the Roman emperor of the time. In a world without the internet and easy access to information, writing about historical events that transpired decades before one’s time was a minefield, especially after the events of 70 A.D., when the city of Jerusalem and the temple were destroyed by the Romans. The numerous points of connection between the gospel history and that written of in secular sources, therefore, provide an important source of evidence for the credibility of the evangelists.

This article will discuss only incidental corroborations of the gospel accounts and will not touch upon the book of Acts, though of course evidence bearing on the reliability of Acts also bears indirectly on the credibility of the gospels since it reflects favorably upon the historical meticulousness of Luke, who authored Acts as well as the third gospel. The historical reliability of Acts will be the subject of a subsequent article (and I have also covered some examples in previous articles, for example here and here). I will also not in this essay offer an extensive discussion of historical objections to the gospels (of which there are many, some of which have been addressed previously on this site) but will instead focus solely on the positive case for the gospel history. However, a few historical objections will be considered that, upon closer inspection, turn out to provide positive evidence for the reliability of the gospels. This short essay is also not intended to provide an exhaustive list of extra-biblical evidences but will catalogue several key examples of external confirmation of the gospel accounts, with a view towards whetting the reader’s appetite for further study of this fascinating topic. For further reading, I recommend starting with part two, chapter six of William Paley’s A View of the Evidence of Christianity, to whom I owe many of the examples discussed in this essay.[1]

Joseph and Archelaus

The gospel of Matthew gives an account of the flight of Jesus and his family to Egypt to escape from Herod the Great’s attempt to kill Jesus by having all infants less than two years of age in the region of Bethlehem put to death (Matt 2:13-18). Matthew 2:19-22 picks up the story of Jesus’ family commencing their return from Egypt following the death of Herod the Great.

19 But when Herod died, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt, 20 saying, “Rise, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel, for those who sought the child’s life are dead.” 21 And he rose and took the child and his mother and went to the land of Israel. 22 But when he heard that Archelaus was reigning over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there, and being warned in a dream he withdrew to the district of Galilee.

Since Joseph received news that Herod the Great had passed away, one might have expected him to surmise that Herod the Great’s eldest son, Archelaus, would succeed him to the throne. However, in verse 22, we read that Joseph “heard that Archelaus was reigning over Judea in place of his father Herod,” and consequently “withdrew to the district of Galilee.” The reader, then, may wonder why news of Archelaus’ reign in Judea caused Joseph to revise his plans and travel towards Galilee instead. The Jewish historian Flavius Josephus gives us a clue. He tells us that, “he [Herod the Great] appointed Antipas, to whom he had before left the kingdom, to be tetrarch of Galilee and Berea, and granted the kingdom to Archelaus,” (Antiquities 17.188).[2] Josephus also writes elsewhere that Caesar Augustus, respecting Herod’s will (Wars of the Jews 2.93–96)[3],

“…gave the one half of Herod’s kingdom to Archelaus, by the name of Ethnarch, and promised to make him king also afterward, if he rendered himself worthy of that dignity; but as to the other half, he divided it into two tetrarchies, and gave them to two other sons of Herod, the one of them to Philip, and the other to that Antipas who contested the kingdom with Archelaus. Under this last was Perea and Galilee, with a revenue of two hundred talents: but Batanea, and Trachonitis, and Auranitis, and certain parts of Zeno’s house about Jamnia, with a revenue of a hundred talents, were made subject to Philip; (96) while Idumea, and all Judea, and Samaria, were parts of the ethnarchy of Archelaus, although Samaria was eased of one quarter of its taxes, out of regard to their not having revolted with the rest of the nation.” 

Thus, we learn from Josephus that, following the death of Herod the Great, Herod’s territory was divided among three of his sons, with Herod’s eldest son Archelaus reigning in Judea; Herod Antipas becoming tetrarch of in Galilee and Peraea; and Philip becoming tetrarch of territories north and east of the Jordan. This, then, provides some historical background to Joseph’s decision to avoid Archelaus by going to Galilee instead of Judea. We still, however, at this point lack an explanation for why Joseph learning that Archelaus reigning in Judea prompted his change of course.

Josephus elsewhere reports that “There was one Judas, the son of Saripheus, and Matthias, the son of Margalothus,” who, “when they found that the king’s distemper was incurable, excited the young men that they would pull down all those works which the king had erected contrary to the law of their fathers, and thereby obtain the rewards which the law will confer on them for such actions of piety…for the king had erected over the great gate of the temple a large golden eagle, of great value, and had dedicated it to the temple,” (Antiquities 17.6.2).[4] Perceiving that the erection of a golden eagle in the temple violated the second commandment which prohibits graven images, these men therefore “persuaded [their scholars] to pull down the golden eagle; alleging, that although they should incur any danger which might bring them to their deaths, the virtue of the action now proposed to them would appear much more advantageous to them than the pleasures of life; since they would die for the preservation and observation of the law of their fathers; since they would also acquire an everlasting fame and commendation; since they would be both commended by the present generation, and leave an example of life that would never be forgotten to posterity…” (Antiquities 17.6.2).[5] Herod’s response was to burn those who had caused this sedition alive (Antiquities 17.6.4). This was among the last acts of Herod the Great before his death in 4 B.C. (Antiquities 17.8).

Josephus tells us that, following Herod the Great’s death and the succession of Archelaus in Judea, “some of the Jews got together, out of a desire of innovation. They lamented Matthias, and those that were slain with him by Herod, who had not any respect paid them by a funeral mourning, out of the fear men were in of that man; they were those who had been condemned for pulling down the golden eagle. The people made a great clamor and lamentation hereupon, and cast out some reproaches against the king also, as if that tended to alleviate the miseries of the deceased,” (Antiquities 17.9.1).[6] These individuals, Josephus informs us, “assembled together” and petitioned Archelaus to enact revenge against “those who had been honored by Herod; and that, in the first and principal place, he would deprive that high priest whom Herod had made…” (Antiquities 17.9.1).[7] However, Archelaus was “mightily offended at their importunity,” (Antiquities 17.9.1).[8] Josephus tells us of Archelaus’ response (Antiquities 17.9.1)[9]:

“However, he sent the general of his forces to use persuasions, and to tell them that the death which was inflicted on their friends, was according to the law; and to represent to them, that their petitions about these things were carried to a great height of injury to him; that the time was not now proper for such petitions, but required their unanimity until such time as he should be established in the government by the consent of Caesar, and should then be come back to them; for that he would then consult with them in common concerning the purport of their petitions; but that they ought at present to be quiet, lest they should seem seditious persons.” 

Josephus goes on to tell us what happened as the next Passover festival rolled around, and there was an influx of Jewish pilgrims into Judea for the feast of Passover (Antiquities 17.9.3)[10]:

“Now, upon the approach of that feast of unleavened bread which the law of their fathers had appointed for the Jews at this time, which feast is called the Passover, and is a memorial of their deliverance out of Egypt…the seditious lamented Judas and Matthias, those teachers of the laws, and kept together in the temple, and had plenty of food, because these seditious persons were not ashamed to get it. And as Archelaus was afraid lest some terrible thing should spring up by means of these men’s madness, he sent a regiment of armed men, and with them a captain of a thousand, to suppress the violent efforts of the seditious, before the whole multitude should be infected with the like madness; and gave them this charge, that if they found any much more openly seditious than others, and more busy in tumultuous practices, they should bring them to him. But those that were seditious on account of those teachers of the law, irritated the people by the noise and clamors they used to encourage the people in their designs; so they made an assault upon the soldiers, and came up to them, and stoned the greatest part of them, although some of them ran away wounded, and their captain among them; and when they had thus done, they returned to the sacrifices which were already in their hands.”  

Thus, this Jewish mob, who protested the death of Mathias and Judas (who had previously been executed for their part in removing the image of the eagle from the Jewish temple) stoned the soldiers who had been sent by Archelaus to prevent an uprising. Josephus tells us what happened next (Antiquities 17.9.3)[11]:

“Now Archelaus thought there was no way to preserve the entire government, but by cutting off those who made this attempt upon it; so he sent out the whole army upon them, and sent the horsemen to prevent those that had their tents without the temple, from assisting those that were within the temple, and to kill such as ran away from the footmen when they thought themselves out of danger; which horsemen slew three thousand men, while the rest went to the neighboring mountains. Then did Archelaus order proclamation to be made to them all, that they should retire to their own homes; so they went away, and left the festival, out of fear of somewhat worse which would follow, although they had been so bold by reason of their want of instruction.” 

Thus, Archelaus’ response was to send his entire army upon the Jewish temple. He surrounded the temple with the horsemen (to prevent anyone from leaving or entering the temple) and had his men massacre three thousand Jews inside the temple. Given that these events unfolded around the time of Passover, it would have been a particularly busy time inside the temple. Following the massacre, Archelaus made a proclamation that Passover was cancelled and that the Jewish pilgrims should return to their hometowns from whence they came. It is not difficult to imagine Mary, Joseph, and Jesus making their way back north from Egypt right around this time, encountering this mass of distraught and fleeing pilgrims coming out of Judea, hearing what had just happened, and deciding to change course and go to Galilee instead, where Archelaus’ younger brother, Herod Antipas, was reigning instead.

It may be observed that Matthew does not give the backstory to Joseph’s change in course. Indeed, Archelaus is mentioned nowhere else in the Bible. Josephus’ incidental and undesigned illumination of the text, therefore, is more probable given that the event Matthew describes is grounded in truth rather than falsehood. This is made all the more the case by the chronological markers (especially the reference to Herod’s death in both accounts) which place these events as happening around the same time as the return of Joseph and his family from Egypt.

Another interesting, though somewhat weaker, point is that Matthew states that Ἀρχέλαος βασιλεύει τῆς Ἰουδαίας (literally, “Archelaus was kinging in Judea”). In concurrence with Matthew, Josephus informs us that His claim to the throne had not been certified by Caesar, and in fact, one of the complaints against Archelaus was that he had already taken the kingship over to himself before it had been formally ratified by Caesar: “Now, Antipater, Salome’s son, a very subtle orator, and a bitter enemy to Archelaus, spake first to this purpose:—That it was ridiculous in Archelaus to plead now to have the kingdom given him, since he had, in reality, taken already the power over it to himself, before Caesar had granted it to him,” (Antiquities 17.9.5).[12] Herod the Great, by contrast, is referred to as “Herod the king” (Mt 2:1,3, c.f. Lk 1:5), which is attested by first-century coins that bear the inscription, ΗΡΩ∆ΟΥ ΒΑΣΙΛΕΩΣ, that is, “King Herod.” In fact, there was never subsequently a formally ratified king at Jerusalem, except during the last three years of the life of Herod Agrippa I (Antiquities 18.6.10 and 19.5.1). This comports with Acts 12:1, which refers to Herod [Agrippa I] the king.”

When Did Jesus Begin His Public Ministry?

John 2:18-20 recounts a dialogue between Jesus and some Jews following the first cleansing of the temple, which occurred towards the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry:

18 So the Jews said to him, “What sign do you show us for doing these things?” 19 Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” 20 The Jews then said, “It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and will you raise it up in three days?” 21 But he was speaking about the temple of his body. 22 When therefore he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and they believed the Scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.

The veracity of the saying of Jesus in verse 19 is supported by an undesigned co-incidence, since Mark 14:57-58, describing the scene where Jesus is on trial before Caiaphas the high priest, notes,

57 And some stood up and bore false witness against him, saying, 58 “We heard him say, ‘I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another, not made with hands.’”

Mark 15:29-30 also reports that onlookers of Jesus’ death on the cross shouted out, “Aha! You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself, and come down from the cross!” (c.f. Mt 27:40). It is noteworthy that Jesus never said anything about destroying a manmade temple and rebuilding it in three days but not by human hands (as per Mk 14:57-58, c.f. Mt 26:61). Moreover, though both Mark and Matthew make reference to this accusation, neither gives a pretext of the saying, or attempts to clarify Jesus’ original words. It does not, however, appear to be a saying that has been invented out of whole cloth, but is more likely a garbled version of something Jesus in fact said (especially in view of the allusion to three days, often associated with Jesus’ predictions concerning His resurrection). In John 2:19 (quoted above), however, John provides us with the original statement of Jesus, though he does not report the later misrepresentation of Jesus’ words, nor its use as an accusation. Matthew and Mark, on the other hand, report the misrepresentations of Jesus’ words and its use as an accusation, but do not give us the original saying. Thus, neither account appears to independent, neither being copied from the other. This undesigned co-incidence supports the historicity of these accounts.

There is, however, also a way of corroborating this account using extrabiblical sources. Take note of the date given by the Jews – “it has taken forty-six years to build this temple…” We can thus discern the approximate date at which this dialogue must have taken place, since Flavius Josephus helpfully tells us when Herod the Great began to rebuild the temple. It was in the 18th year of his reign, which landed in approximately 19 B.C. (Antiquities 15.11.1). Forty-six years on from 19 B.C. lands us in 28 A.D. Now, according to Luke 3:1, when did Jesus commence His public ministry? It was in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar. Augustus Caesar died in 14 A.D., but two years prior to that (the fall of 12 A.D.), according to the historian Suetonius, Augustus appointed Tiberius as co-emperor, in order to ensure a smooth transition of power. This is implied by the following quotation, which refers to Tiberius’ return to Rome following a stint in Germany for two years, between 10 and 12 A.D. (Suetonius, Tiberius 20-21)[13]:

“After two years he returned from Germany to the city, and celebrated the triumph which he had deferred, attended by his lieutenants, for whom he had procured the honour of triumphal ornaments. Before he turned to ascend the capitol, he alighted from his chariot, and knelt before his father, who sat by, to superintend the solemnity…A law having been not long after carried by the consuls for his being appointed a colleague with Augustus in the administration of the provinces, and in taking the census, when that was finished he went into Illyricum.” 

This indicates that Tiberius was “appointed a colleague with Augustus in the administration of the provinces, and in taking the census” after Tiberius’ return from Germany, in 12 A.D. Thus, the fifteenth year of Tiberius lands us in 27 A.D., corresponding to Jesus’ baptism and ministry commencement. The cleansing of the temple would have taken place the following Passover (John 2:13), placing it in the spring of 28 A.D. Thus, by two independent methods, and using information drawn from John, Luke, Josephus, and Suetonius, we have been able to confirm the date on which Jesus cleansed the temple. This sort of co-incidence – in particular, the undesignedness with which the pieces dovetail, is best explained by the sources being rooted in truth.

Jesus’ Teachings on Divorce

In Mark 10:2-12, we read about Jesus’ teachings on the subject of divorce and remarriage:

2 And Pharisees came up and in order to test him asked, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” 3 He answered them, “What did Moses command you?” 4 They said, “Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of divorce and to send her away.” 5 And Jesus said to them, “Because of your hardness of heart he wrote you this commandment. 6 But from the beginning of creation, ‘God made them male and female.’ 7 ‘Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, 8 and the two shall become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two but one flesh. 9 What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.” 10 And in the house the disciples asked him again about this matter. 11 And he said to them, “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her, 12 and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.”

This last statement in verses 11 and 12 has given rise to a popular objection to Mark’s account, namely, that although Jewish law made provision for a man to divorce his wife, it made no such provision for a woman to divorce her husband. Thus, it has been thought, this might betray the fact that the author of Mark was a gentile who here reveals his ignorance of Jewish law, or that our author has reworked Jesus’ teachings to make it more suitable for a Roman audience. John Donahue and Daniel Harrington, for instance, note that “This sentence is generally regarded as an addition to Jesus’ teaching that was made to address situations related to Roman legal practice whereby a woman could initiate divorce proceedings.”[14] Josephus, however, sheds some light on the significance of Jesus’ words in their original historical context. He writes that “Herodias took upon her to confound the laws of our country, and divorce herself from her husband [that is, Philip] while he was alive, and was married to Herod [Antipas], her husband’s brother by the father’s side; he was tetrarch of Galilee.”[15] This takes on a particular significance when we consider that Herod Antipas was tetrarch of Galilee, which was the very place where Jesus had just been teaching (Mk 9:30, 33). Though Mark 10:1 states that “he left there and went to the region of Judea and beyond the Jordan, and crowds gathered to him again,” the parallel account in Matthew 19:2 indicates that “large crowds followed him,” implying that he delivered this teaching to Galilean crowds. Furthermore, the verb ἔρχομαι in Mark 10:1 does not necessarily describe a completed action and verse 17 (“And as he was setting out on his journey…”) suggests that he had not yet arrived in Judea. In fact, Jesus did not even reach Jericho, which is on the outskirts of Judea, until verse 46. From these clues, it may be reasonably deduced that Jesus was still teaching the Galilean crowds, for whom a rebuke of Herod Antipas’ adulterous relationship with Herodias (and Herodias’ divorcing of her previous husband, Philip) was of particular relevance.

The surprising nature (given Jewish law) of Jesus’ teaching in Mark 10:11-12, coupled with the incidental way that Josephus illuminates the gospel account, supports the veracity of Mark’s narrative.

Why Was John the Baptist Imprisoned?

Mark 6:17-18 gives us the evangelist’s understanding of the motive behind Herod’s imprisonment of John the Baptist:

17 For it was Herod who had sent and seized John and bound him in prison for the sake of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, because he had married her. 18 For John had been saying to Herod, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.

Mark’s statement of Herod’s motivation in imprisoning John the Baptist contradicts the statement of Josephus, who wrote[16],

“Now, when [many] others came in crowds about him, for they were greatly moved [or pleased] by hearing his words, Herod, who feared lest the great influence John had over the people might put it into his power and inclination to raise a rebellion (for they seemed ready to do anything he should advise), thought it best, by putting him to death, to prevent any mischief he might cause, and not bring himself into difficulties, by sparing a man who might make him repent of it when it should be too late. Accordingly he was sent a prisoner, out of Herod’s suspicious temper, to Macherus, the castle I before mentioned, and was there put to death.” 

According to the gospels, it was not just Herod’s suspicious temper or his fear of an uprising; it was because of John’s disapproval of Herod’s marriage to his brother’s wife, Herodias. Of course, these motivations are not incompatible and it may have been a combination of both. This does raise the interesting question, however, of how the evangelists should know what Herod Antipas’ motives were for having John imprisoned. A plausible answer to this is supplied by Luke 8:3, which indicates that one of Jesus’ female disciples, who had followed Him from Galilee, was “Joanna, the wife of Chuza, Herod’s household manager.” Thus, evidently, Jesus’ followers had family in the highest ranks of Herod Antipas’ employment.

There is also another interesting feature of this text from Josephus that is of evidential value. Herod Antipas’ previous wife, Phasaelis, whom Antipas had divorced, returned to her father, Aretas IV, king of the Nabateans. This resulted in a military conflict between Antipas and Aretas IV. Josephus explains (Antiquities 18.108–115) [17],

“About this time Aretas (the king of Arabia Petrea) and Herod had a quarrel, on the account following: Herod the tetrarch had married the daughter of Aretas, and had lived with her a great while; but when he was once at Rome, he lodged with Herod, who was his brother indeed, but not by the same mother; for this Herod was the son of the high priest Simon’s daughter. However, he fell in love with Herodias, this last Herod’s wife, who was the daughter of Aristobulus their brother, and the sister of Agrippa the Great. This man ventured to talk to her about a marriage between them; which address when she admitted, an agreement was made for her to change her habitation, and come to him as soon as he should return from Rome; one article of this marriage also was this, that he should divorce Aretas’s daughter. So Antipas, when he had made this agreement, sailed to Rome; but when he had done there the business he went about, and was returned again, his wife having discovered the agreement he had made with Herodias, and having learned it before he had notice of her knowledge of the whole design, she desired him to send her to Macherus, which is a place on the borders of the dominions of Aretas and Herod, without informing him of any of her intentions. Accordingly Herod sent her thither, as thinking his wife had not perceived anything; now she had sent a good while before to Macherus, which was subject to her father, and so all things necessary for her journey were made ready for her by the general of Aretas’s army and by that means she soon came into Arabia, under the conduct of the several generals, who carried her from one to another successively; and she soon came to her father, and told him of Herod’s intentions. So Aretas made this the first occasion of his enmity between him and Herod, who had also some quarrel with him about their limits at the country of Gamalitis. So they raised armies on both sides, and prepared for war, and sent their generals to fight instead of themselves; and, when they had joined battle, all Herod’s army was destroyed by the treachery of some fugitives, who, though they were of the tetrarchy of Philip, joined with Aretas’s army. So Herod wrote about these affairs to Tiberius; who, being very angry at the attempt made by Aretas, wrote to Vitellius, to make war upon him, and either to take him alive, and bring him to him in bonds, or to kill him, and send him his head. This was the charge that Tiberius gave to the president of Syria.” 

Thus, Herod lost the war against Aretas IV. According to Josephus, many of the Jews blamed Herod’s defeat on the way in which Herod had treated John the Baptist (Antiquities 18.116–117)[18]:

“Now, some of the Jews thought that the destruction of Herod’s army came from God, and that very justly, as a punishment of what he did against John, that was called the Baptist; for Herod slew him, who was a good man, and commanded the Jews to exercise virtue, both as to righteousness towards one another, and piety towards God, and so to come to baptism; for that the washing [with water] would be acceptable to him, if they made use of it, not in order to the putting away [or the remission] of some sins [only], but for the purification of the body; supposing still that the soul was thoroughly purified beforehand by righteousness… Now the Jews had an opinion that the destruction of this army was sent as a punishment upon Herod, and a mark of God’s displeasure against him.” 

The explanations that the Jews offered of Herod’s defeat at the hands of Aretas IV makes sense in view of the gospel account, which informs us that the reason why Herod had John the Baptist imprisoned was because “John had been saying to Herod, ‘It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.’ And Herodias had a grudge against him and wanted to put him to death.” [19] John the Baptist was a strong critic of Herod Antipas’ adulterous relationship with Herodias, which had led to John’s imprisonment and ultimately to his execution. And it was Herod Antipas’ adulterous relationship with Herodias that led to the war between Herod Antipas and Aretas IV and ultimately to his defeat. Is it any wonder, then, that the Jews blamed the destruction of Herod’s armies on Herod’s treatment of John the Baptist? This undesigned co-incidence between Mark and Josephus again supports the veracity of Mark’s account.

The Execution of John the Baptist

Mark 6 recounts the story of the death of John the Baptist, when Herodias’ daughter, after dancing for Herod’s guests at a banquet, offered her whatever she wished. She requested the head of John the Baptist. According to Mark 6:27-28,

27 And immediately the king sent an executioner with orders to bring John’s head. He went and beheaded him in the prison 28 and brought his head on a platter and gave it to the girl, and the girl gave it to her mother.

The Greek word used for “executioner” in verse 27 is σπεκουλάτορα, rather than the more usual term for a civil executioner, which is δήμιος. The word σπεκουλάτορα is a rank of military officer, literally meaning “scout” or “courier” (English cognates include “spectate” and “spectacles”). This rank of officer also served as body guards of the Roman emperor. These officers occasionally acted as executioners (Seneca, de Ira 1.16), though this was not their distinctive office. The fact that Herod used a σπεκουλατωρ (rather than a δήμιος) to carry out the execution dovetails perfectly with Josephus’ account of the same event, according to which John the Baptist “was sent a prisoner, out of Herod’s suspicious temper, to Macherus, the castle I before mentioned, and was there put to death.” (Antiquities 18.119). [19] Thus, we learn that Herod Antipas was not during this time at his palace in Galilee, but rather was on a military campaign against his former father-in-law, Aretas IV, king of the Nabateans, and was therefore resident at his military fortress called Macherus. This illuminates why a military officer, rather than a civil executioner, was used for putting John the Baptist to death, and provides some supporting evidence in favor of historicity.

John the Baptist’s Baptizing on the Jordan River

In Luke 3:10-14, we read of various individuals who enquired of John the Baptist what they should do. According to verse 14,

14 Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or by false accusation, and be content with your wages.”

The word translated “soldiers” in this verse is στρατευόμενοι, which is a present participle, literally translated “those soldiering” or “those being soldiers.” This is in fact the only instance of this form in the gospels and Acts out of 29 occurrences of the word στρατιώτης and its inflections. The use of the present participle in Luke 3:14 suggests that these soldiers are on active duty. How, though, does this comport with the fact that this period, near the beginning of Pilate’s decade-long term, is one of peace in Palestine? The only military conflict going on at this time was that between Herod Antipas and his former father-in-law, Aretas IV, king of the Nabateans. As already discussed, Josephus indicates that Herod Antipas had a fortress, called Macherus, located in Jordan twenty-five kilometers southeast of the mouth of the Jordan river, on the eastern side of the Dead Sea, “on the borders of the dominions of Aretas and Herod,” (Antiquities 18.111).[20] Antipas hired a mercenary army to carry on the war against Aretas. These soldiers, then, are on their way down to bolster the garrison at the fortress. Thus, the soldiers would naturally pass by where John the Baptist was baptizing on their way to shore up the garrison at Macherus. Again, the subtlety of this co-incidence tends to confirm the credibility of Luke’s account.

The Office of the High Priest

One curious feature of the gospel accounts is that the high priests are consistently spoken of in the plural number (ἀρχιερεῖς) when normally (as per the prescriptions of the Torah) there was only ever a single high priest. In agreement with the gospels, Josephus also speaks of the priests in the plural number (e.g. Wars of the Jews 2.322).

Luke 3:1 indicates that Jesus’ public ministry began “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar…during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas.” A parallel passage in Josephus, which likewise speaks of two individuals occupying the office of high priest, can be found in Wars of the Jews 2.243: “but he [Quadratus] sent two others of those that were of the greatest power among men, and both Jonathan and Ananias, the high priests…”[21]

William Paley also observes that, though John does not mention that both Ananas and Caiaphas held the office of high priest, “That Annas was a person in an eminent station, and possessed an authority co-ordinate with, or next to, that of the high priest properly so called, may be inferred from Saint John’s Gospel, which, in the history of Christ’s crucifixion, relates [in 18:13] that ‘the soldiers led him away to Annas first.’ And this might be noticed as an example of undesigned coincidence in the two evangelists.”[22] The reason for taking Jesus to Annas first, according to John 18:13, was that “he was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, who was high priest that year,” but no mention is made of him also serving in the capacity of high priest.

Interestingly, Acts 4:6 refers to “Annas the high priest and Caiaphas and John and Alexander, and all who were of the high-priestly family,” thus referring only to Annas as high priest, even though he is listed alongside Caiaphas. In a similar vein, Josephus writes, “Joseph also, the son of Gorion, and Ananus the high priest, were chosen as governors of all affairs within the city,” (Wars of the Jews 2.563).[23] William Paley comments, “Yet Ananus, though here called the high priest Ananus, was not then in the office of the high priesthood. The truth is, there is an indeterminateness in the use of this title in the Gospel: sometimes it is applied exclusively to the person who held the office at the time; sometimes to one or two more, who probably shared with him some of the powers or functions of the office; and, sometimes, to such of the priests as were eminent by their station or character; and there is the very same indeterminateness in Josephus.”[24]

In Matthew 26:3, we read, “Then the chief priests and the elders of the people gathered in the palace of the high priest, whose name was Caiaphas.” Josephus attests to the fact that Caiaphas was high priest throughout the term of Pontius Pilate (and therefore at this time). Josephus writes (Antiquities 18.33)[25],

“He [Tiberius] was now the third emperor; and he sent Valerius Gratus to be procurator of Judea, and to succeed Annius Rufus. This man deprived Ananus of the high priesthood, and appointed Ismael, the son of Phabi, to be high priest. He also deprived him in a little time, and ordained Eleazar, the son of Ananus, who had been high priest before, to be high priest: which office, when he had held for a year, Gratus deprived him of it, and gave the high priesthood to Simon, the son of Camithus; and when he had possessed that dignity no longer than a year, Joseph Caiaphas was made his successor. When Gratus had done those things, he went back to Rome, after he had tarried in Judea eleven years, when Pontius Pilate came as his successor.” 

From clues in Josephus and the gospels, it may reasonably be deduced that, though Ananus had been deposed from his office by Pilate’s predecessor, Valerius Gratus, the Jews nonetheless continued to recognize him as the rightful high priest, even while also recognizing the line of Roman-instituted high priests, the fourth of whom was Joseph Caiaphas. It is also noteworthy that Eleazar, the son of Ananias, and Simon, the son of Camithus, are both said to have held this office no longer than a year before the appointment of Caiaphas. This illuminates the statements in John 11:49, 11:51, and 18:13 that Caiaphas was “high priest that year,” when normally the office of the high priest was a life-long occupation. Note too that this is said of Caiaphas, but not of Ananus, which is consistent with the hypothesis, which I suggested above, that Ananus was recognized as the God-instituted high priest, even while also recognizing the series of Roman-instituted high priests.

Josephus also writes of the removal of Caiaphas from this office after Pilate’s term in office was over, noting that Lucius Vitellius the Elder, Legate of Syria “deprived Joseph, who was called Caiaphas, of the high priesthood, and appointed Jonathan, the son of Ananus, the former high priest, to succeed him,” (Antiquities 18.95).[26]

Do the Jews Wash Their Hands Before Eating?

In Mark 7:1-4, we read,

Now when the Pharisees gathered to him, with some of the scribes who had come from Jerusalem, 2 they saw that some of his disciples ate with hands that were defiled, that is, unwashed. 3 (For the Pharisees and all the Jews do not eat unless they wash their hands properly, holding to the tradition of the elders, 4 and when they come from the marketplace, they do not eat unless they wash. And there are many other traditions that they observe, such as the washing of cups and pots and copper vessels and dining couches.)

In his book, Jesus, Interrupted, Bart Ehrman asserts that “Mark 7:3 indicates that the Pharisees ‘and all the Jews’ washed their hands before eating, so as to observe ‘the tradition of the elders.’ This is not true: most Jews did not engage in this ritual.”[27] Ehrman has in mind here Exodus 30:18-21; 40:30-32 and Leviticus 20:1-16, in which the priests are called to observe hand washing practices, but the general populace is not. But did the Jews of Jesus’ time, who were heavily influenced by the practices of the Pharisees, engage in this ritual, even though it was not required of them in the written Law? To find out, we can look at some Jewish evidence. According to a letter addressed from an Alexandrian Jew by the name of Aristeas of Marmora (who lived in the second or third century B.C.) to his brother Philocrates, “And as is the custom of all the Jews, they washed their hands in the sea and prayed to God…” Another source is the Jewish philosopher Philo of Alexandria (20-50 A.D.), who writes that the law “does not look upon those who have even touched a dead body, which has met with a natural death, as pure and clean, until they have washed and purified themselves with sprinklings and ablutions” (The Special Laws 3.205).

Let’s consider some modern scholarly opinion. Susan Haber writes[28],

“The Centrality of impurity to Jewish life in the Second Temple period is supported by archaeological evidence. The discovery of mikvaot in such diverse places as Gamla, Sepphoris, Herodium and Massada suggests that in Palestine the removal of impurity was not a rite reserved only for approaching the sacred precincts of the Temple, but was common practice for Jews of all walks of life. The textual evidence suggests that the Jews of the Diaspora also purified themselves, if not through immersion, then by sprinkling, splashing or hand washing.” 

To Ehrman’s credit, Ehrman has since corrected himself on this particular issue. Nonetheless, that Mark in facts gets this right (despite the apparent discrepancy with the Torah) suggests, once again, that he is well informed and close up to the facts.

Tyre to the Sea of Galilee by Way of Sidon

A curious statement is found in Mark 7:31 that “[Jesus] returned from the region of Tyre and went through Sidon to the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis.” At first blush, this appears odd since Sidon is northeast of Tyre, while the Sea of Galilee is southeast of Tyre. Thus, it raises the question of why Jesus would travel north in order to go south. Some critical scholars argue that this reveals that “the evangelist was not directly acquainted with Palestine.”[29] It has even been suggested that “Mark wants to have Jesus move north, then east, and finally south to compass the whole of the southern Phoenician (Gentile) territory prior to his journey to Jerusalem in 8:22–10:52.”[30] However, such conclusions are unwarranted. Inspecting a topographical map reveals that there is in fact a mountain, Mount Meron, three-quarters of a mile high that lies directly between Tyre and the Sea of Galilee. There is a pass from Sidon that leads through the mountains to the Jordan river valley, which would supply fresh water for the journey to foot travelers to Galilee. Thus, far from revealing the evangelist’s ignorance of Palestinian geography, it in fact reveals his intimate acquaintance with it.

The Samaritans and Their Temple

John 4:1-45 recounts Jesus’ encounter with the woman of Samaria at Jacob’s well. The woman says to Jesus, “Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet. Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, but you say that in Jerusalem is the place where people ought to worship,” (Jn 4:19-20). In agreement with this, Josephus states that the Samaritans “assembled themselves together upon the mountain called Gerizzim, which is with them a holy mountain,” (War of the Jews 3.307)[31]. In verse 22, Jesus makes a particularly odd statement: “You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews.” What is the subject of Jesus’ cryptic allusion in this verse? Once again, Josephus may shed some light. He writes of the Seleucid Tyrant, Antiochus Epiphanes’ march against Jerusalem, and the actions undertaken by the Samaritans to secure their own safety (Antiquities 12.5.5)[32]:

“When the Samaritans saw the Jews under these sufferings, they no longer confessed that they were of their kindred; nor that the temple on Mount Gerizzim belonged to Almighty God. This was according to their nature, as we have already shown. And they now said that they were a colony of Medes and Persians: and indeed they were a colony of theirs. So they sent ambassadors to Antiochus, and an epistle, whose contents are these:— ‘To king Antiochus the god, Epiphanes, a memorial from the Sidonians, who live at Shechem. Our forefathers, upon certain frequent plagues, and as following a certain ancient superstition, had a custom of observing that day which by the Jews is called the Sabbath. And when they had erected a temple at the mountain called Gerizzim, though without a name, they offered upon it the proper sacrifices. Now, upon the just treatment of these wicked Jews those that manage their affairs, supposing that we were of kin to them, and practiced as they do, make us liable to the same accusations, although we are originally Sidonians, as is evident from the public records. We therefore beseech thee, our benefactor and savior, to give order to Apollonius, the governor of this part of the country, and to Nicanor, the procurator of thy affairs, to give us no disturbance, nor to lay to our charge what the Jews are accused for, since we are aliens from their nation and from their customs; but let our temple which at present hath no name at all, be named the Temple of Jupiter Hellenius. If this were once done, we should be no longer disturbed, but should be more intent on our own occupation with quietness, and so bring in a greater revenue to thee.” When the Samaritans had petitioned for this, the king sent them back the following answer in an epistle:— ‘King Antiochus to Nicanor. The Sidonians, who live at Shechem, have sent me the memorial enclosed. When, therefore, we were advising with our friends about it, the messengers sent by them represented to us that they are no way concerned with accusations which belong to the Jews, but choose to live after the customs of the Greeks. Accordingly, we declare them free from such accusations, and order that, agreeable to their petition, their temple be named the Temple of Jupiter Hellenius.’ He also sent the like epistle to Apollonius, the governor of that part of the country, in the forty-sixth year, and the eighteenth day of the month Hecatombeon.” 

Thus, in order to appease Antiochus and secure their safety, the people of Samaria offered to dedicate their temple to Jupiter, the Latin equivalent of the Greek God Zeus. This offer was accepted by Antiochus and he therefore passed through Samaria in peace. Is it any wonder, then, that Jesus said to the woman of Samaria, “You worship what you do not know”?

One may object to this example since these events transpired more than two centuries before the time of Jesus and it was likely that this was widely known at the time, presumably leading to ‘bad blood’ between the Jews and Samaritans as a result. Thus, one might argue, John’s readers would have been expected to immediately understand the reference. However, it seems that it would have been quite improbable that these events would have been widely known to John’s audience, which was comprised of both Jews and Gentiles. John’s gospel was probably composed later than the other gospels and likely after the fall of Jerusalem. The book was almost certainly written in Ephesus in Asia Minor, and it thus seems quite implausible that John would have faked this subtle reference on the assumption that his own audience would recognize it. For Jesus to assume that the woman at the well would understand the allusion would be more probable, from an historical perspective (rather like some sort of subtle cultural reference that someone might make to an audience now that would require people later to dig in order to understand).

Jesus Discloses His Identity

Another interesting feature of this episode is that the Samaritan woman is the one individual in the gospels (outside of his inner circle) to whom Jesus personally discloses His Messianic identity. In verses 25 and 26, we read, “The woman said to him, ‘I know that Messiah is coming (he who is called Christ). When he comes, he will tell us all things.’ Jesus said to her, ‘I who speak to you am he.’” Throughout the synoptic accounts, Jesus often sternly warns people not to publicly disclose His identity or speak publicly of His miracles (e.g. Mk 1:43-45; Mk 8:27-30). In scholarly circles, this is known as the “messianic secret.” We also see Jesus frequently seeking to avoid large crowds. Those features of Jesus’ behavior are illuminated by John 6:15, which immediately follows the account of the feeding of the five thousand, in which we read, “Perceiving then that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, Jesus withdrew again to the mountain by himself.” Given the popular Messianic expectation of an individual who would overthrow the Roman occupiers and re-establish a Davidic reign, Jesus naturally feared that public disclosure of His Messianic identity would result in misunderstandings and attempts by the crowds to make Him King by force. Thus, John 6:15 explains the Messianic secret in the synoptics. But why does Jesus disclose His public identity to the Samaritan woman in John 4:26? And why does he not charge her to secrecy, as He does with so many others? Later Samaritan documents explain that their view of the Messiah (whom the Samaritans called the Taheb, or restorer) was different from that of the Jews, and was largely informed by Deuteronomy 18:15-18, which speaks of the Messiah as a prophet like Moses (the Samaritans only accepted the books of Moses as Scripture). Some evidence also indicates that the role of the Taheb included teaching. Jesus therefore had no reason to worry that the Samaritans would misunderstand His claim to be the Messiah, and expect Him to lead a military revolution against Rome.

No Friend of Caesar

In John 19:12, we read of the taunt of the Jewish crowd against Pontius Pilate, when Pilate had sought to release Jesus, against the will of the crowds:

12 From then on Pilate sought to release him, but the Jews cried out, “If you release this man, you are not Caesar’s friend. Everyone who makes himself a king opposes Caesar.”

The first century Jewish philosopher, Philo of Alexandria, gives an account of a previous episode, which may illuminate why this was a sore point for Pilate, in which the Jews had complained to Tiberius Caesar about certain shields that Pilate had had erected in Jerusalem, resulting in Tiberius having written a sharply worded letter to Pilate demanding that the shields be removed (Embassy 299–305)[33]:

“I can quote in addition one act showing a fine spirit. For though I experienced many ills when he was alive, truth is dear, and is held in honour by you. One of his lieutenants was Pilate, who was appointed to govern Judaea. He, not so much to honour Tiberius as to annoy the multitude, dedicated in Herod’s palace in the holy city some shields coated with gold. They had no image work traced on them nor anything else forbidden by the law apart from the barest inscription stating two facts, the name of the person who made the dedication and of him in whose honour it was made. But when the multitude understood the matter which had by now become a subject of common talk, having put at their head the king’s four sons, who in dignity and good fortune were not inferior to a king, and his other descendants and the persons of authority in their own body, they appealed to Pilate to redress the infringement of their traditions caused by the shields and not to disturb the customs which throughout all the preceding ages had been safeguarded without disturbance by kings and by emperors. When he, naturally inflexible, a blend of self-will and relentlessness, stubbornly refused they clamoured, ‘Do not arouse sedition, do not make war, do not destroy the peace; you do not honour the emperor by dishonouring ancient laws. Do not take Tiberius as your pretext for outraging the nation; he does not wish any of our customs to be overthrown. If you say that he does, produce yourself an order or a letter or something of the kind so that we may cease to pester you and having chosen our envoys may petition our lord.’ It was this final point which particularly exasperated him, for he feared that if they actually sent an embassy they would also expose the rest of his conduct as governor by stating in full the briberies, the insults, the robberies, the outrages and wanton injuries, the executions without trial constantly repeated, the ceaseless and supremely grievous cruelty. So with all his vindictiveness and furious temper, he was in a difficult position. He had not the courage to take down what had been dedicated nor did he wish to do anything which would please his subjects. At the same time he knew full well the constant policy of Tiberius in these matters. The magnates saw this and understanding that he had repented of his action but did not wish to appear penitent sent letters of very earnest supplication to Tiberius. When he had read them through what language he used about Pilate, what threats he made! The violence of his anger, though he was not easily roused to anger, it is needless to describe since the facts speak for themselves. For at once without even postponing it to the morrow he wrote to Pilate with a host of reproaches and rebukes for his audacious violation of precedent and bade him at once take down the shields and have them transferred from the capital to Caesarea on the coast surnamed Augusta after your great-grandfather, to be set up in the temple of Augustus, and so they were. So both objects were safeguarded, the honour paid to the emperor and the policy observed from of old in dealing with the city.” 

Philo’s account thus provides a backstory that illuminates why the taunt of the Jewish crowd, “If you release this man, you are not Caesar’s friend,” was such a sore point for Pilate and why it led to him acquiescing to the crowd’s demands that Jesus be crucified.

The Test of Personal Names

What can the naming patterns of the gospels tell us about their historical credibility? In his ground breaking work, Jesus and the Eyewitnesses, British New Testament Richard Bauckham lays out an array of evidences for the trustworthiness of the gospels.[34] Though I do not endorse all of the arguments of the book, it is a scholarly treatise of the evidence for the gospels as eyewitness testimony that is well worth reading. Among the arguments adduced in this volume is the test of personal names, which is covered in chapters three and four of the book. Bauckham’s analysis is based upon a lexicon compiled by Tal Ilan and containing three thousand Jewish names derived from ossuaries and documentary sources.[35] Bauckham explains that “The chronological period it covers begins at the Hellenistic conquest of Palestine and concludes at the end of the Mishnaic period. Thus its sources include the works of Josephus, the New Testament, the texts from the Judean desert and from Masada, ossuary inscriptions from Jerusalem, and the earliest (tannaitic) rabbinic sources.”[36] One may complain that the range of the lexicon’s coverage is from 330 B.C. to 200 A.D. is too broad. Bauckham responds to this concern by noting that “this possible disadvantage for the New Testament scholar in Ilan’s collection of data is offset by the facts that in many respects the practices of name-giving seem to have remained fairly constant over this period and also, importantly, that a large proportion of the data actually comes from the first century CE and early second century (to 135 CE), just because the sources for this shorter period are much more plentiful than for other parts of the whole period.”[37] Bauckham further remarks, “It may come as a surprise to many readers that we know the names of as many as three thousand Palestinian Jews who lived during the five centuries covered by Ilan’s Lexicon. In most cases we know at least a little more about these persons, even if it is only their relationship to another named person. This material obviously provides a very rich resource for the history of Jewish Palestine and, among other specific parts of that history, the history of the beginnings of Christianity. The availability of the information in the comprehensive and systematic form of the Lexicon now makes the use of this resource much more possible and accurate.”[38]

Bauckham argues that there is a remarkable correlation between the frequency of names found in the Gospels and Acts and the frequency of names found in writings outside of the New Testament. This argument is also developed by Peter J. Williams, of Tyndale House in Cambridge, in his popular book, Can We Trust the Gospels?[39] The top 2 men’s names (Simon and Joseph) in first century Palestine outside the New Testament have a frequency of 15.6%. The frequency of those two names in the gospels and Acts is 18.2%. Taking a slightly bigger data set, the frequency of the top nine men’s names outside the New Testament is 41.5%; whereas the frequency in the Gospels and Acts is 40.3%. The frequency of the top two women’s names (Mary and Salome) outside the New Testament is 28.6%; the frequency in the Gospels and Acts is 38.9%. The frequency of the top nine women’s names outside the New Testament is 49.7%; and 61.1% in the Gospels and Acts.

The top 6 male Jewish names in first century Palestine are:

1) Simon/Simeon

2) Joseph/Joses

3) Lazarus/Eleazar

4) Judas/Judah

5) John/Yohanan

6) Jesus/Joshua

The frequency of New Testament individuals with those names, according to Bauckham, is 8, 6, 1, 5, 5 and 2 respectively, which he claims represents a correlation between the naming frequencies in the New Testament and those external to it.[40] Bauckham also observes that the rankings of names in Palestine does not correspond with the rankings of those names in other regions. For example, the rankings of male Jewish names in Egypt during that same period are:

1) Eleazar (ranked 3rd in Palestine)

2) Sabbataius (ranked 68= in Palestine)

3) Joseph (ranked 2 in Palestine)

4=) Dositheus (ranked 16 in Palestine)

4=) Pappus (ranked 39= in Palestine)

6=) Ptolemaius (ranked 50= in Palestine)

6=) Samuel (ranked 23 in Palestine)

Bauckham concludes[41],

“The evidence in this chapter shows that the relative frequency of the various personal names in the Gospels corresponds well to the relative frequency in the full database of three thousand individual instances of names in the Palestinian Jewish sources of the period. This correspondence is very unlikely to have resulted from addition of names to the traditions, even within Palestinian Jewish Christianity, and could not possibly have resulted from the addition of names to the traditions outside Jewish Palestine, since the pattern of Jewish name usage in the Diaspora was very different.” 

I am afraid that, in my assessment, Bauckham overstates this part of his argument. My main concern is that too few names are used in the gospels to make the results of a statistical analysis meaningful. Furthermore, there are important anomalies that Bauckham fails to acknowledge or account for. For example, according to the data cited by Bauckham, the name Jesus is the sixth most popular Palestinian male Jewish name. However, besides Jesus of Nazareth, no other Jesus is named in the gospels. In Acts 13:6, there is a Jewish false prophet, named Bar-Jesus (“son of Jesus”) but he is not in Palestine but on the island of Cyprus. Moreover, the name Lazarus is ranked #3 in Palestine but there is only a single individual by that name in the gospels and Acts (I am not counting the individual by that name who appears only in a parable). Similarly, Matthew is ranked #9 in Palestine but there are only two individuals by that name in the gospels and Acts. On the other hand, James is the eleventh most popular Jewish male name in Palestine but there are five individuals by that name in the gospels and Acts (more than for higher ranking names such as Matthew, Ananias, Jesus, or Lazarus).

Thus, in view of the foregoing considerations, the argument, as Bauckham offers it, I believe to be overstated. I would, however, argue that the very fact that we have such a small sample in the gospels and Acts entails that the exact relative proportions with which these names appear do not have to be precise. If one finds that the Gospels have none of those distinctively Egyptian names (such as Sabbateus) and that the large majority of their names come from the most frequent names in Palestine at the time, for such a small sample, that does carry evidential force. This is all the more the case when one finds that, when the gospels mention several people by the same name (Simon and Mary being two notable examples), which were very common names in Palestine at that time.

Furthermore, a more promising argument, I think, lies in a related feature of the text, also discussed by Bauckham [42] and by Williams[43]. Consider the following excerpt from Matthew 10 (verses 2-4) where we are given the names of the twelve disciples. Where these names feature in the top eighty names, their ranking is given in brackets:

Simon (1), called Peter, and Andrew his brother, and James (11) the son of Zebedee, and John (5) his brother; Philip (61=) and Bartholomew (50=); Thomas and Matthew (9) the tax collector; James (11) the son of Alphaeus, and Thaddaeus (39=); Simon (1) the Cananaean, and Judas (4) Iscariot, who also betrayed him.

Notice that there is correlation between those names that have a high ranking and those names that are assigned a qualifier, a pattern that is sustained throughout the gospels (consistently in quoted speech, though not always in the narration after characters have already been introduced). The lower-ranked names do not have a qualifier. Thus, this correlation between the frequency of a name and the use of a disambiguation to distinguish them from other people bearing the same name reflects what we would expect if they were written by eyewitnesses with a close connection to the time and place of the events that they narrate. This is not a pattern that would have been at all easy for a forger to create.

Conclusion

To conclude, there is ample evidence from extrabiblical sources that the gospels and Acts were composed by individuals who were close up to the facts, well informed and habitually reliable. This is epistemically relevant to the resurrection of Jesus since, if the gospels and Acts do indeed go back to the earliest apostolic eyewitnesses, then we have strong reason to believe that the nature and variety of the post-resurrection encounters with the risen Jesus reflects the testimony of Jesus’ original followers. We may then evaluate those claims to determine whether they are best explained as a result of the claimant being honestly mistaken, deliberately deceptive or truthful and informed. Readers who are interested in further investigation of the claim of the resurrection may wish to check out my writing on this subject, which you can find here.

Footnotes

[1] William Paley and Edmund Paley, The Works of William Paley, vol. 2 (London; Oxford; Cambridge; Liverpool: Longman and Co.; T. Cadell; J. Richardson; Baldwin and Cradock; Hatchard and Son; J. G. & F. Rivington; Whittaker and Co.; Hamilton, Adams & Co.; Simpkin, Marshall, and Co.; Smith, Elder and Co.; E. Hodgson; B. Fellowes; R. Mackie; J. Templeman; H. Washbourne; Booker and Dolman; J. Parker; J. and J. J. Deighton; G. and J. Robinson, 1838).

[2] Flavius Josephus and William Whiston, The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1987), 463.

[3] Ibid., 603.

[4] Ibid., 461.

[5] Ibid.

[6] Ibid., 465.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Ibid.

[10] Ibid., 465-466.

[11] Ibid., 466.

[12] Ibid.

[13] C. Suetonius Tranquillus, Suetonius: The Lives of the Twelve Caesars; An English Translation, Augmented with the Biographies of Contemporary Statesmen, Orators, Poets, and Other Associates, ed. Alexander Thomson (Medford, MA: Gebbie & Co., 1889).

[14] John R. Donahue and Daniel J. Harrington, The Gospel of Mark, ed. Daniel J. Harrington, vol. 2, Sacra Pagina Series (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 2002), 295.

[15] Flavius Josephus and William Whiston, The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1987), 485.

[16] Ibid., 484.

[17] Ibid.

[18] Ibid.

[19] Ibid.

[20] Ibid.

[21] Ibid., 613.

[22] William Paley and Edmund Paley, The Works of William Paley, vol. 2 (London; Oxford; Cambridge; Liverpool: Longman and Co.; T. Cadell; J. Richardson; Baldwin and Cradock; Hatchard and Son; J. G. & F. Rivington; Whittaker and Co.; Hamilton, Adams & Co.; Simpkin, Marshall, and Co.; Smith, Elder and Co.; E. Hodgson; B. Fellowes; R. Mackie; J. Templeman; H. Washbourne; Booker and Dolman; J. Parker; J. and J. J. Deighton; G. and J. Robinson, 1838), 210.

[23] Flavius Josephus and William Whiston, The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1987), 633.

[24] William Paley and Edmund Paley, The Works of William Paley, vol. 2 (London; Oxford; Cambridge; Liverpool: Longman and Co.; T. Cadell; J. Richardson; Baldwin and Cradock; Hatchard and Son; J. G. & F. Rivington; Whittaker and Co.; Hamilton, Adams & Co.; Simpkin, Marshall, and Co.; Smith, Elder and Co.; E. Hodgson; B. Fellowes; R. Mackie; J. Templeman; H. Washbourne; Booker and Dolman; J. Parker; J. and J. J. Deighton; G. and J. Robinson, 1838), 210.

[25] Flavius Josephus and William Whiston, The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1987), 478.

[26] Ibid., 483.

[27] Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted: Revealing the Hidden Contradictions in the Bible (And Why We Don’t Know About Them). (New York: HarperCollins, 2009), 287.

[28] Susan Haber, “They Shall Purify Themselves”: Essays on Purity in Early Judaism (Society of Biblical Literature, 2008), 130-131.

[29] Dennis E. Nineham, The Gospel of St. Mark (Harmondsworth, Middlesex [England]; New York: Penguin Books, 1963), 40.

[30] John R. Donahue and Daniel J. Harrington, The Gospel of Mark, ed. Daniel J. Harrington, vol. 2, Sacra Pagina Series (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 2002), 239.

[31] Flavius Josephus and William Whiston, The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1987), 653.

[32] Ibid., 324.

[33] Philo, Philo, trans. F. H. Colson, G. H. Whitaker, and J. W. Earp, vol. 10, The Loeb Classical Library (London; England; Cambridge, MA: William Heinemann Ltd; Harvard University Press, 1929–1962), 151–155.

[34] Richard Bauckham, Jesus and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony, Second Edition. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2017).

[35] Tal Ilan, Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity: Palestine 330 Bce – 200 Ce (London: Coronet Books, 2002).

[36] Richard Bauckham, Jesus and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony, Second Edition. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2017), 68.

[37] Ibid.

[38] Ibid.

[39] Peter J. Williams, Can We Trust the Gospels? (Illinois: Crossway, 2018), 64-77.

[40] Richard Bauckham, Jesus, and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony, Second Edition. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2017), 85–88.

[41] Ibid., 84.

[42] Ibid., 78–84.

[43] Peter J. Williams, Can We Trust the Gospels? (Illinois: Crossway, 2018), 66-68.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

The New Testament: Too Embarrassing to Be False by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3, and Mp4)

Why We Know the New Testament Writers Told the Truth by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3 and Mp4)

Oh, Why Didn’t I Say That? Is the Bible Historically Reliable? by Dr. Frank Turek DVD, Mp4, Mp3 Download

 

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Dr. Jonathan McLatchie is a Christian writer, international speaker, and debater. He holds a Bachelor’s degree (with Honors) in forensic biology, a Masters’s (M.Res) degree in evolutionary biology, a second Master’s degree in medical and molecular bioscience, and a Ph.D. in evolutionary biology. Currently, he is an assistant professor of biology at Sattler College in Boston, Massachusetts. Dr. McLatchie is a contributor to various apologetics websites and is the founder of the Apologetics Academy (Apologetics-Academy.org), a ministry that seeks to equip and train Christians to persuasively defend the faith through regular online webinars, as well as assist Christians who are wrestling with doubts. Dr. McLatchie has participated in more than thirty moderated debates around the world with representatives of atheism, Islam, and other alternative worldview perspectives. He has spoken internationally in Europe, North America, and South Africa promoting an intelligent, reflective, and evidence-based Christian faith.

Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/LEXQYZJ

 

By Ryan Leasure

It’s not uncommon for Christians to throw shade on the Old Testament. These Christians say they love Jesus, but they could do without those primitive Jewish texts. In fact, many Christians suggest that much of the Old Testament is ahistorical. Events such as the flood, Jonah being swallowed by a big fish, or the fiery judgment of Sodom and Gomorra never happened. And then there’s the infamous quote that Christians simply need to “unhitch themselves from the Old Testament” because much of it is embarrassing or difficult to understand. Why can’t we just focus on Jesus instead?

We can certainly sympathize with these sentiments. After all, the flood and Sodom’s judgment seem pretty incredible and kind of harsh to boot! Wouldn’t it just be easier to disregard this ancient corpus? This position seems reasonable until one realizes that the same Jesus these Christians adore also happens to hold the Old Testament in high regard. Not only does he affirm the Old Testament’s inspiration, he also affirms its historicity and authority.

The Old Testament is Inspired

Historically, Christians have affirmed the verbal plenary inspiration of the Bible. That is to say, they recognize that every word of Scripture is “God-breathed” (2 Tim 3:16-17). At the same time, God spoke through human agency. Therefore, Scripture not only has a divine author, it has human authors as well.

Jesus affirmed the human authors of the Old Testament. Repeatedly, he recognizes that Moses is the one who gave the Law (Matt 8:4; 19:8; Mark 1:44; 7:10; Luke 5:14; 20:37; John 5:46; 7:19). He’ll say things like “do what Moses commanded” (Mark 1:44). Or “Moses said, Honor your father and your mother” (Mark 7:10). With respect to other Old Testament authors, Jesus declares, “Well did Isaiah prophesy . . .” (Mark 7:6). Also, “David himself, in the Holy Spirit, declared . . .” (Mark 12:36). And “So when you see the abomination of desolation spoken of by the prophet Daniel . . .”(Matt 24:15). It’s worth noting that just about all critical scholars call into question the authorship of these individuals in clear contradiction to Jesus.

At the same time, Jesus affirms that these individuals wrote divinely inspired Scripture. As was just alluded to, Jesus noted in Mark 12:36, “David himself, in the Holy Spirit, declared, . . .” In other words, David wrote, but his writings were the result of the Holy Spirit’s work (2 Pet 1:20-21). He also declared “Well did Isaiah prophesy . . .” (Mark 7:6). The mere mention of prophecy suggests that Isaiah wrote from God. Prophecy, after all, is by definition “a word from God.” The same could be said for Matthew 24:15 when Jesus refers to Daniel as “the prophet.” Moreover, when speaking to the scribes and Pharisees, Jesus asserts, “You leave the commandment of God and hold to the tradition of men” (Mark 7:8). He then goes on to clarify that the commandment of God was what Moses wrote in Exodus 20.

As John Wenhan notes, “To [Jesus], Moses, the prophets, David and the other Scripture-writers were truly inspired men with a message given by the Spirit of God.”1

The Old Testament is Historically Accurate

While many are willing to grant the Old Testament’s inspiration, many of these same individuals deny that it’s historically accurate at every point. They might affirm its historical nature in general (God created the world, called Abraham and the Jewish people, the Jews were exiled, etc.), but they balk at some of the more challenging texts (the flood, Sodom, Jonah, etc.). That said, Jesus has no qualms about affirming the historical nature of the Old Testament—even the most difficult texts to believe. Here are a few examples:

He believed that Cain killed Abel (Luke 11:51), that God sent a flood but spared Noah in the ark (Matt 24:37-39), and that God destroyed Sodom because of their wickedness (Matt 11:23-24). He even adds, “Remember Lot’s wife” (Luke 17:32). Additionally, Jesus believed that God sent down manna from heaven (John 6:31), the Israelites were healed by looking at the serpent (John 3:14), and that Jonah was swallowed by a big fish only to be regurgitated three days later (Matt 12:39-41).

The last text about Jonah is especially significant because it demonstrates that Jesus didn’t simply view these events figuratively. For the end of the text reads, “The men of Nineveh will rise up at the judgment with this generation and condemn it, for they repented at the preaching of Jonah, and behold, something greater than Jonah is here” (Matt 12:41). It’s hard to imagine how Jesus could assert that Ninevah would rise up in the final judgment against the people who rejected him if they were make-believe. The same could be said for Jesus’ statement in Matthew 24:37: “For as were the days of Noah, so will be the coming of the Son of Man.” In other words, just as God’s judgment was poured out in the days of Noah, so it will be again in the final judgment.

Again, Wenham remarks, “It is evident that [Jesus] was familiar with most of our Old Testament and that he treated it all equally as history.”2

The Old Testament is Authoritative

Because Jesus believed the Old Testament was divinely-inspired, he also affirmed its full authority. He demonstrated this authority by appealing to the scriptures dozens of times.

When asked what were the greatest commandments, he declares that “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart with all your soul and with all your mind. . . And the second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Matt 22:37-39). Jesus said that these two commands (Deut 6:4-6; Lev 19:18) sum up the totality of the Old Testament and are the guide to all ethical matters.

When facing temptation, Jesus appealed to the authority of Scripture to do battle against Satan. He repeatedly declares, “it is written, it is written, it is written” (Matt 4:1-11). Even as he was facing death, the final words on his lips were words from the Old Testament (Psalm 22:1; 31:5).

Jesus appeals to Genesis 1-2 when speaking about marriage and divorce. He asks, “Have you not read that he who created them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, ‘Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh?’ So they are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let no man separate” (Matt 19:4-6). By alluding to Genesis 1-2 here, Jesus asserts that his position on marriage and divorce is rooted in the authority of the Old Testament text. By contrast, Jesus’ opponents rooted their position in different Rabbis (Shammai and Hillel).

When disputing with the Sadducess about the resurrection, Jesus scolds them, “You are wrong, because you know neither the Scriptures nor the power of God” (Matt 22:29). In other words, the Scriptures give us the definitive, authoritative word about the resurrection. Jesus goes on to question them, “Have you not read what was said to you by God, I am the God of Abraham . . .?” (Matt 31-32) Again, Jesus appeals to the Old Testament text to assert God’s power over the resurrection.

Jesus goes so far as to state that “Scripture cannot be broken” (John 10:35). For Jesus, Scripture is so powerful, nothing can undo it.

Jesus and the Old Testament

All the evidence taken together suggests that Jesus held a high view of the Old Testament. Those who claim to hold Jesus in high regard but reject some of the Old Testament’s teachings are being inconsistent. If you hold Jesus in high regard, you must hold the Old Testament in high regard as well. As John Wenham notes:

“To Christ the Old Testament was true, authoritative, inspired. To him the God of the Old Testament was the living God, and the teaching of the Old Testament was the teaching of the living God. To him, what Scripture said, God said.” 3

*For more on this topic, see John Wenham’s book Christ and the Bible.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

Old Testament vs. New Testament God: Anger vs. Love? (MP3 Set) (DVD Set) (mp4 Download Set) by Dr. Frank Turek 

Jesus, You and the Essentials of Christianity by Frank Turek (INSTRUCTOR Study Guide), (STUDENT Study Guide), and (DVD)      

 

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Ryan Leasure is a pastor at Grace Bible Church in Moore, SC. For more on his background and interests, click here.

Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/rQYMyUQ

 

By Erik Manning

If you want people to trust their leaders, you usually would try to paint them in the best light possible. You don’t go out of your way to undermine their authority. But that isn’t what we see at all in the Gospels. Those who would eventually lead the church often look impulsive, incompetent, boastful, and stupid. If the Gospels are supposed to be PR for the apostles, their propaganda team was a dismal failure.

This kind of information is what NT scholars call the criteria of embarrassment. In his book, Marginal Jew, Meier writes:

The point of the criterion is that the early church would hardly have gone out of its way to create material that only embarrassed its creator or weakened its position in arguments with opponents. 

Marginal Jew

Those Faithless Disciples

Let’s look at the Gospel of Mark since most believe it is the earliest Gospel. Mark tells us that the disciples were often faithless. When encountered by a storm when crossing a lake, the disciples panicked. (Mk 4:35-41) They brazenly accused Jesus of not caring about them, and Jesus rebuked them for not having any faith. They were also terrified to see Jesus walking on the water only two chapters later. (Mk 6:50)

When a man brought his demonized son to his followers, the disciples were too incompetent to give the boy any help. Jesus chided them for their lack of faith. (Mk 9:17-19) Mark also tells us that Jesus’ own family thought that he was nuts. (Mk 3:21) Later we read in Acts, 1 Corinthians, and Galatians that James and Jesus’ other siblings became leaders in the church. (Acts 15, 1 Cor 9:5, Galatians 1-2) So far, the future heads of Jesus’ church look like a sorry bunch.

The Disciples Were Slow 

Mark also tells us that the disciples were extremely slow on the uptake. They asked questions about Jesus’ parables that he expected them, of all people, to understand. His main points were often lost on them. (Mk 4:137:18)

Jesus had previously fed a crowd of 5000 and later 4000 with a few loaves and fish. Shortly afterward, Jesus said that they should beware of the leaven of the Pharisees. What did the disciples do in response? They fussed with each other because they forgot to pack bread for their boat trip across the lake. Jesus had to remind them that food was neither his point nor an issue. That should’ve been obvious by then. (Mk 8:14-21)

The Disciples Were Rude

The disciples were notoriously bad-mannered. As I mentioned earlier, they accused Jesus of not caring about them when he was sleeping during the storm. Peter had the genius idea of rebuking Jesus when he said he was going to sacrifice himself. Jesus called Peter Satan in response, so yeah, that didn’t go over big. (Mk 8:31-33)

When people brought small children to be blessed by Jesus, like ogres, his disciples tried to run them off. (Mk 10:13-14) When the woman anointed Jesus’ feet with costly perfume, Mark tells us that “they rebuked her harshly.”  Not a smooth move. Jesus emphatically told them to leave her alone. She had more value for Jesus than they all did put together. (Mk 14:4-9)

The disciples fought over who was the greatest, and John and James had the brass to ask Jesus if they could sit at his right and left hand when he came into his kingdom. (Mk 9:33-3410:35-37) They clearly didn’t understand the kind of servant-leadership that Jesus was modeling.

The Going Got Tough, The Disciples Ran

In Jesus’ darkest hour, they bragged about being willing to die before abandoning him. (Mk 14:31) While Jesus was praying they all fell asleep. (Mk 14:37-42) And when he was arrested, they all fled. (Mk 14:50) Peter ended up denying him three times when pressed by a servant girl (Mark 14:66-72), and they all were AWOL on the day of the resurrection. (Mk 16:1-9) Even though Jesus repeatedly told them he’d rise again three days later. (Mk 8:31-329:30-3210:32-3414:28) Even atheist scholars like Gerd Ludemann use the criteria of embarrassment when arguing for the historicity of Peter’s denial. (The Resurrection of Christ, p 162)

Finally, who actually showed up at the tomb? The women (Mk 16:1). They were the first eyewitnesses to the empty tomb. This is itself an embarrassing detail, as a woman’s testimony in the 1st-century context carried very little weight.

  • “But let not the testimony of women be admitted, on account of the levity and boldness of their sex” … (Josephus, Antiquities, 4.8.15).
  • “Any evidence which a woman [gives] is not valid (to offer)” … (Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 1.8c).

Luke tells us that the disciples thought the women’s testimony was “nonsense.” They didn’t believe them. (Luke 24:11) 100 years later Celsus would mock the Christians for believing the tales of a hysterical woman. (Contra Celsum 2.54)

Again, if this is supposed to be Christian propaganda to make their leaders look good, or make the resurrection story more plausible, the Gospel writers caused problems for themselves. In the words of scholar NT Wright:

“As historians, we are obliged to comment that if these stories had been made up five years later, let alone thirty, forty, or fifty years later, they would never have had Mary Magdalene in this role. To put Mary there is, from the point of view of Christian apologists wanting to explain to a skeptical audience that Jesus really did rise from the dead, like shooting themselves in the foot. But to us as historians, this kind of thing is gold dust. The early Christians would never, never have made this up.”

The Resurrection of the Son of God

Embarrassing Details In Acts

And it’s not like things are hunky-dory in the Book of Acts, either. You know, that book about the apostles taking over after Jesus. You would think Luke would make them look like they finally got their act together. Instead, we see that Paul and Barnabas got in a big tiff over bringing Mark (the future Gospel writer!) because Mark got homesick and left them in the middle of ministry earlier. (Acts 15:36-40) Mark is later mentioned in Paul’s letters, so apparently, things got patched up later. (Philemon 24)

There was also racist bickering going on in the infant church in Jerusalem because the Hellenized Jewish widows were being neglected in the daily distribution of food. (Acts 6:1)

And even though Jesus told them to take the Gospel to the entire world it took a special vision for Peter to finally understand that it was OK to preach to those unclean Gentiles seemingly years later. (Acts 10)

What Real Christian Propaganda Looks Like

Luke and Mark hardly make the apostles out to be saints. Now compare this to other Christian propaganda. Eusebius wrote a biography of Emperor Constantine that was very charitable, to say the least. He slyly omits that Constantine had his own son Crispus and his other wife Fausta killed. Eusebius instead makes Constantine out to be a super saint. Now that is what real propaganda looks like.

It is hard to imagine the early Christians inventing embarrassments for themselves when they already had enough problems from persecution! And yet, it is difficult to read the Gospel of Mark without getting a negative impression of the apostles. Again, this is the earliest of the Gospels according to most scholars. Eyewitnesses would still be around, including some of the apostles. These negative statements are strong indications that these things were really said. NT scholar C.E.B. Cranfield concludes:

“The fact that the perplexing and offensive material…was preserved at all and reached Mark says much for the general reliability of the sources used by him.”

These self-damaging materials are one more reason why we can trust the Gospels. This kind of evidence doesn’t by itself prove that the Gospels are reliable, but it does lend some support to that view. It’s one part of a much larger cumulative case.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

The New Testament: Too Embarrassing to Be False by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3, and Mp4)

Why We Know the New Testament Writers Told the Truth by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3 and Mp4)

 

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Erik Manning is a Reasonable Faith Chapter Director located in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. He’s a former freelance baseball writer and the co-owner of the vintage and handmade decor business with his wife, Dawn. He is passionate about the intersection of apologetics and evangelism.

Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/MQacEd6

 

By Ryan Leasure

The Gospel according to John has received more scrutiny than the other Gospels put together. Case in point, dating back to the 1920s, critical scholars have argued that the apostle John could not have written the Gospel. Rather, they’ve suggested a whole slew of other possibilities (anonymous, John the Elder, Lazarus, John Mark, the rich young ruler, etc.) But is there any evidence to back up their contentions? Should we reject the traditional position which the church has subscribed to for almost two thousand years?

In this post, I will argue that John the son of Zebedee penned the fourth Gospel. I will make my case in three steps: First, I will examine the external evidence. Second, I will examine the internal evidence. And third, I will refute the common objections.

External Evidence for John’s Authorship

Writing around AD 180, Irenaeus of Lyons wrote, “John, the disciple of the Lord, who also had leaned upon His breast, did himself publish a Gospel during his residence at Ephesus in Asia.”1 In other words, Irenaeus declares that John wrote the fourth Gospel while living in Ephesus. And this John should be identified with the disciple whom Jesus loved and reclined on Jesus’ breast in John 13:23.

How would Irenaeus be privy to such information? He claims to be a spiritual grandson of John himself! Pay careful attention to how Irenaeus reminisces about his childhood experiences.

I remember the events of those days more clearly than those which have happened recently, . . . so I can speak even of the place in which the blessed Polycarp sat and disputed, how he came in and went out, the character of his life, the appearance of his body, the discourse which he made to the people, how he reported his converse with John and with the others who had seen the Lord, how he remembered their words, and what were the things concerning the Lord which he had heard from them, including his miracles and his teaching, and how Polycarp had received them from the eyewitnesses of the word of life, and reported all things in agreement with the Scriptures.2

Notice that Irenaeus claims to have been taught by Polycarp who was taught by John. That is to say, Irenaeus was in a position to know if John was the author of the fourth Gospel.

Other church fathers also affirm John’s authorship. Clement of Alexandria—also writing around AD 180—stated, “But that John, last of all, conscious that the outward facts had been set forth in the Gospels, was urged on by his disciples, and, divinely moved by the Spirit, composed a spiritual Gospel.”3

The Muratorian Fragment—a late second-century document—states plainly, “The fourth of the Gospels is that of John, [one] of the disciples.”

And finally, writing a couple of decades later, Tertullian reports, “Of the apostles, therefore, John and Matthew first instill faith into us; whilst of apostolic men, Luke and Mark renew it afterwards.” 4

On top of all this, every titled manuscript of the Gospel lists John as its author. In short, the early church affirmed that John wrote the fourth Gospel.

Internal Evidence for John’s Authorship

John 21:24 reports, “This is the disciple who is bearing witness about these things, and who has written these things, and we know that his testimony is true.” Which disciple is this? Verse 20 tell us. “Peter turned and saw the disciple whom Jesus loved following them, the one who also had leaned back against him during the supper.” In other words, the disciple whom Jesus loved and leaned on Jesus’ breast (John 13:23) wrote this Gospel.

But who is this mysterious disciple whom Jesus loved? He was certainly one of the twelve at the Last Supper (John 13:23). The synoptics make clear that only the apostles joined Jesus for this meal. Moreover, the disciple whom Jesus loved is repeatedly distinguished from Peter (John 13:23-24; 20:2-9; 21:20). Finally, he is one of the seven disciples who went fishing in chapter 21:2. That said, he cannot be Peter, Thomas, or Nathanael. He is, therefore, either one of the sons of Zebedee or one of the other two unnamed disciples that were present at the Sea of Galilee in John 21. It must be said, however, that James the son of Zebedee died in the early 40s, which rules him out as a potential author.

An additional note worth mentioning is that John is never mentioned by name in the Gospel. His absence would be extremely odd if someone else wrote this Gospel. After all, the Gospel mentions other prominent characters like Peter and Andrew and even less familiar characters like Philip and Judas (not Iscariot). Moreover, while the synoptic Gospels all refer to the forerunner of Jesus’ ministry as John the Baptist (it was necessary to distinguish him from the other prominent John), this Gospel only refers to him as John. In other words, the author did not feel it necessary to distinguish that John from himself.

Finally, John and Peter are repeatedly shown as close companions in the synoptic Gospels, Acts, and Galatians (Mark 5:37; 14:33; Acts 3:1-4:23; Gal. 2:9). Similarly, the fourth Gospel puts Peter and the disciple whom Jesus loved together frequently (13:23-24; 20:2-10; 21:20-23).

The most plausible explanation for this data is that John is the disciple whom Jesus loved, and therefore, the author of the fourth Gospel.

Answering Objections

One of the more frequently cited reasons for rejecting Johannine authorship is the self-description “the one whom Jesus loved.” In other words, John seems rather full of himself to give himself this title. This objection, however, should not deter us from accepting traditional authorship. After all, what Christian doesn’t affirm that God loves them? There is nothing boastful about making this claim. On the contrary, its the mark of humble gratitude. As Carson and Moo assert, it “is scarcely the mark of arrogance; it is rather the mark of brokenness.”5 Paul, for example, declares that Christ “loved me and gave himself for me” (Gal. 2:20). Nothing arrogant about that. Just plain awe and gratitude.

Another frequent objection to the tradition view is that the early church thought a different John wrote the Gospel. This objection stems from a quotation from Papias who mentions a particular “elder John” in addition to the “apostle John.” However, as Carson and Moo point out, the Greek syntax Papias uses, namely the anaphoric use of the article for the second John, strongly suggests that “elder John” and “apostle John” are really the same person.6 Also noteworthy is that Peter calls himself an “elder” in 1 Peter 5:1. In other words, the apostles also understood themselves as elders in the early church. Both 2 and 3 John are said to be by “the elder,” and Papias may simply be echoing that language.

A third objection is that an uneducated Galilean fisherman never could have penned this Greek Gospel. This objection fails on multiple fronts as well. First, while Acts 4:13 states that Peter and John were “uneducated,” that description does not imply that they were illiterate. “Uneducated” simply means that they hadn’t been officially trained in Jewish Rabbinical schools—not unlike Jesus (John 7:15). In fact, most Jewish boys received an education so that they could read the Scriptures. Moreover, John came from wealth (his father owned a large fishing business—Luke 5:3,10; Mark 1:20). Therefore, he most likely received an excellent education.

Recent studies also suggest that Palestinian Jews were often able to speak both Aramaic and Greek.7 With the discovery of Greek coins, Judean-Greek documents, Greek names on burial inscriptions, and even a Greek-speaking synagogue, it’s not unreasonable to think John wrote this Gospel. These pieces of evidence don’t even take into account that John had several decades in Greek-speaking Ephesus to brush up on his Greek before writing his Gospel.

The Gospel According to John

Based on the external and internal evidence, John the son of Zebedee is the author of the fourth Gospel. While the objections cannot be ignored, none of them undermine the evidence in favor of traditional authorship.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

The New Testament: Too Embarrassing to Be False by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3, and Mp4)

Why We Know the New Testament Writers Told the Truth by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3 and Mp4)

Jesus, You and the Essentials of Christianity by Frank Turek (INSTRUCTOR Study Guide), (STUDENT Study Guide), and (DVD)

     

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Ryan Leasure holds a Master of Arts from Furman University and a Masters of Divinity from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. Currently, he’s a Doctor of Ministry candidate at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He also serves as a pastor at Grace Bible Church in Moore, SC.

Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/InPkO6A

 

By Ryan Leasure

Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead is one of the most well-known stories in the Gospels. Yet, for some reason, Matthew, Mark, and Luke don’t mention it. This head-scratching absence has raised a lot of doubts about its historicity. After all, this story seems too significant to leave out. As you can imagine, skeptics think John made it up. But could there be a good reason that the earlier Gospels left it out?

While it does seem strange that the synoptic writers would leave out this story, I believe we have a good explanation for its absence in what Gerd Theissen calls “protective anonymity.”[1]

Pre-Markan Tradition

Protective anonymity is based on the premise that a pre-Markan tradition stands behind the passion narrative in Mark 14-16. In other words, while Mark composed much of his Gospel based on Peter’s eyewitness testimony, the last few chapters came from another source that dates much closer to the time of Jesus’ death and resurrection. While biblical scholars are somewhat divided on this issue, the evidence tilts in favor of this pre-Markan source.

For example, scholars have long noted that Mark didn’t arrange the pericopes (e.g., miracles, parables, proclamations, narratives, exorcisms, etc.) chronologically. Rather, he ordered them in ways that suited his purposes. In fact, Matthew and Luke’s orders often diverge from Mark’s. Meaning, Mark could have easily rearranged the stories in a different order without impacting the overall message. However, when one gets to the passion narrative, the entire account presupposes a chronological order. Instead of one short story after another, the entire passion account (ch. 14-16, possibly ch. 11-16) flows like one continuous narrative. Certainly, Mark could have composed these last few chapters himself. But a few features from the text suggest that it was composed earlier and in Jerusalem.

One reason for adopting this view is that Mark mentions “the high priest” but never mentions him by name (Caiaphas). This phrasing would be akin to saying “the president” instead of President Biden. If I had a conversation with someone today and mentioned “the president,” no one would think I was talking about Trump, Obama, Bush, or any other previous president. They would assume I was talking about our current president. The same could be said for Caiaphas. Since he ruled till AD 37, the passion narrative that merely refers to him as “the high priest” must have been in circulation before his tenure ended.

Another reason for thinking that the passion account is early and from Jerusalem is the mention of “James the younger” in Mark 15:40. Theissen argues, “It would have been particularly necessary in Jerusalem to distinguish a ‘James the younger’ (or ‘the less’) from the ‘older’ (or ‘greater’).”[2] He suggests that “James the younger” was the brother of Jesus, and “James the older” was the Son of Zebedee. If Theissen is right, then the need to distinguish the two James would have been necessary in Jerusalem where “James the younger” was overseer of the church. Furthermore, the need to distinguish the two James would only be necessary until AD 44 when “James the older” died.

One more reason for thinking the passion narrative is a pre-Markan tradition is the mention of “the insurrection” in which Barabbas was involved (Mark 15:7). Jews, however, were familiar with a significant uprising led by Theudas in AD 44-45 (Acts 5:36).[3] One would think that if Mark wrote this passion account in the 50s or 60s, he would have been careful to distinguish which uprising Barabbas participated in. The mere mention of “the insurrection” suggests that this narrative pre-dates the insurrection led by Theudas in AD 44-45. 

Protective Anonymity

With the pre-Markan tradition established, we are now in a position to answer the question of why Lazarus is never mentioned. Theissen argues that people are left anonymous or unmentioned because if their names got back to the Jerusalem authorities, they could be implicated as accomplices in Jesus’ “revolt.”

Consider the person who cut off the ear of the high priest’s servant in Mark 14:47. Mark never mentions him by name. He simply notes that “one of those who stood by drew his sword and struck the servant of the high priest and cut off his ear.” Mark doesn’t even make it clear if this is one of Jesus’ disciples. It’s not until John’s Gospel—written around AD 90—that we discover that the identity of this sword-wielding character is none other than Peter himself. John no longer feels the need to protect Peter’s identity because he was long dead by now. Since Peter most likely would have faced arrest for this attempted murder on the high priest’s servant, this early pre-Markan tradition kept him anonymous.

Another case of protective anonymity is the woman who anointed Jesus in Mark 14:3-9. Her actions would undoubtedly make her an accomplice in Jesus’ messianic “revolt.” Bauckham remarks,

At the time when this tradition took shape in this form in the early Jerusalem church, this woman would have been in danger were she identified as having been complicit in Jesus’ political subversive claim to messianic kingship. Her danger was perhaps even greater than that of the man who attacked the servant of the high priest, for it was she who had anointed Jesus as Messiah.[4]

It’s worth noting that Judas immediately betrayed Jesus to the authorities following the anointing. Once again, it’s John who reveals the identity of this woman as Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, when she no longer needed protective anonymity.

Lazarus

If we are right to believe that the pre-Markan passion narrative intentionally kept people anonymous for their protection, we could understand how it would leave Lazarus out of the story altogether. After all, John 12:10-11 notes that “the chief priests made plans to put Lazarus to death as well, because on account of him many of the Jews were going away and believing in Jesus.” That is to say, Lazarus was a thorn in the side of the Jewish leaders because he was convincing Jews to become Christians by simply walking around. Because Jewish leaders continued to persecute the early church for decades, this early passion narrative had to leave him out of the story altogether for his own protection.

However, some have argued that perhaps Lazarus does sneak into Mark’s passion narrative after all. During Jesus’ arrest, we read, “And a young man followed him, with nothing but a linen cloth about his body. And they seized him, but he left the linen cloth and ran away naked” (Mark 14:51-52). Without sounding too immature, I laugh every time I read about this anonymous streaker. Yet, this account is more significant than it may appear. With all the commotion going on (Peter had just whacked off someone’s ear), none of the disciples probably observed this scene. They had already “left him and fled” (Mark 14:50). Therefore, this story must go back to the eyewitness testimony of the streaker himself.

Again, his anonymity was necessary for his protection. After all, the only reason he must have fled naked is because he resisted the guards. Once they grabbed him, he was able to slip away, leaving his linen cloth behind. Undoubtedly, the Jewish leaders would have been looking to arrest this man who fought against them.

So who was this man? Some have argued that it was Lazarus. Wanting to still acknowledge Lazarus’ importance, this early account allows him this brief and very comical appearance. Others have argued that this person is John Mark himself. Like Alfred Hitchcock appearing in one of his own films or an artist painting himself into his picture, Mark inserted himself into the narrative. I don’t think we can know for sure. Although I kind of hope it’s Mark. That just makes for a better story.

[1] Gerd Theissen, The Gospels in Context.

[2] Gerd Theissen, The Gospels in Context, 178.

[3] Josephus, Antiquities, 20.97-98.

[4] Richard Bauckham, Jesus, and the Eyewitnesses, 2nd ed. 290.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

The New Testament: Too Embarrassing to Be False by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3, and Mp4)

Why We Know the New Testament Writers Told the Truth by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3 and Mp4)

 

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Ryan Leasure holds a Master of Arts from Furman University and a Master of Divinity from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. Currently, he’s a Doctor of Ministry candidate at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He also serves as a pastor at Grace Bible Church in Moore, SC.

Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/Mb80NbD

 

By Ryan Leasure

Modern critics doubt that eyewitnesses stand behind the four Gospels. In fact, they argue that the first followers of Jesus told others about Jesus who told others about Jesus who told others about Jesus, and eventually someone wrote all those stories down—much like the game of telephone. According to this theory, anonymous figures wrote the Gospels in places like Turkey, Greece, and Rome.

Biblical scholar Richard Bauckham begs to differ. One of the more brilliant ways Bauckham pushed back against the form criticism of the early twentieth century was to highlight that the names in the Gospels correspond to the names in the broader Palestinian record. In other words, one would expect a slew of unrealistic Palestinian names (like Marcus or Gaius) if someone was merely writing hearsay from across the Roman Empire. This point is especially true when one considers that the Jewish names across the Empire were radically different from the Palestinian Jewish names. The fact that the Gospels give realistic names suggests that the accounts can be traced back to Palestine itself.

But Bauckham also looks at the names from a different angle to provide further support for eyewitness testimony. He argues that the presence of certain names seems highly unusual unless they were the eyewitness sources behind their stories.

Anonymous by Default

Most of the people in the Gospels are anonymous. Besides the disciples, government officials, and a few key figures, just about everyone else remains anonymous. Allow me to give you some samples from Luke:

  • Luke 5:12 — “While he was in one of the cities, there came a man full of leprosy.”
  • Luke 6:6 — “On another Sabbath, he entered the synagogue and was teaching, and a man was there whose right hand was withered.”
  • Luke 7:2 — “Now a centurion had a servant who was sick and at the point of death, who was highly valued by him.”
  • Luke 8:43 — “And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and though she had spent all her living on physicians, she could not be healed by anyone.”
  • Luke 10:25 — “And behold, a lawyer stood up to put him to the test, saying, ‘Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?’”
  • Luke 13:14 — “But the ruler of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had healed on the Sabbath, said to the people, ‘There are six days in which work ought to be done. Come on those days and be healed, and not on the Sabbath day.’”

I could list more. By my count fifty-one anonymous characters appear in Luke. This does not count large groups such as the five thousand or the seventy-two. Nor does this list include generic statements where Jesus heals “many” or interacts with a crowd.

Since obscure characters are usually anonymous, we should take notice when one of them gets mentioned.

Simon of Cyrene

Mark mentions three obscure figures in Mark 15:21. He notes, “And they compelled a passerby, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to carry his cross.” It’s noteworthy that none of these three figures show up anywhere else in the narrative. Moreover, while Matthew and Luke also mention Simon of Cyrene, they leave out his two sons. What best explains this phenomena?

Church tradition suggests that Mark’s Gospel is more or less Peter’s account of things. Yet, Peter wasn’t in all places at all times. In fact, he drops out of the narrative in the previous chapter. He’s presumably in hiding after Jesus’ arrest. So how would Peter or Mark know that Simon carried Jesus’ cross? Who’s testimony stands behind this story?

It most certainly has to be Simon of Cyrene. Furthermore, the mention of his two sons Alexander and Rufus suggests that Mark expected his readers to know who they were. In fact, if Mark wrote his Gospel in Rome (as tradition suggests), it’s reasonable to believe that the church heard this story from Alexander and Rufus themselves. Think about it. Alexander and Rufus must have heard the story dozens of times from their dad. And now as they relayed this same story to the church in Rome, imagine how proud they must have felt. That’s our dad! He carried Jesus’ cross! Since neither Matthew nor Luke mention these two sons, we can assume that their audiences (places other than Rome) would not have been familiar with them.

Cleopas

After his resurrection from the dead, Jesus appears to two individuals on the road to Emmaus — Cleopas and an anonymous figure. Why mention Cleopas and not the other? The story obviously does not require him to be named.

The most reasonable explanation is that Cleopas must be the source for this specific account. Again, none of the disciples were present. Luke himself was not present. But as Luke mentioned in his prologue, he spoke with different eyewitnesses before compiling his Gospel account (Luke 1:1-3). Cleopas was one such eyewitness.

Also worth noting is that Cleopas was probably Jesus’ uncle. Elsewhere, John reports, “but standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene” (John 19:25). While the spelling is different in John, Bauckham argues that “Clopas is a very rare Semitic form of the Greek name Cleopas, so rare that we can be certain this is the Clopas who, according to Hegesippus, was the brother of Jesus’ father Joseph.”[1]

Writing in the early fourth century, church historian Eusebius references Hegesippus’ quote on Clopas. He writes:

After the martyrdom of James and the conquest of Jerusalem which immediately followed, it is said that those of the apostles and disciples of the Lord that were still living came together from all directions with those that were related to the Lord according to the flesh (for the majority of them also were still alive) to take counsel as to who was worthy to succeed James. They all with one consent pronounced Symeon, the son of Clopas, of whom the Gospel also makes mention; to be worthy of the episcopal throne of that parish. He was a cousin, as they say, of the Saviour. For Hegesippus records that Clopas was a brother of Joseph.[2]

According to church tradition, Clopas’ son, Symeon, the cousin of Jesus and James, became the overseer of the church in Jerusalem after James’ martyrdom in AD 62. Thus, we can see why Clopas’ testimony might carry some significant weight in the early church. He was the uncle of Jesus, and his son was a prominent leader in the Jerusalem church.

Names and Eyewitnesses

A few other names also fit this same description (Jairus, Bartimaeus, and Zacchaeus to name a few). By looking at the general pattern in the Gospels, these obscure figures should have remained anonymous. Therefore, their names seem rather significant. I believe Bauckham is correct when he suggests “that many of these named characters were eyewitnesses who not only originated the traditions to which their names are attached but also continued to tell these stories as authoritative guarantors of their traditions.”[3]

Notes

[1] Richard Bauckham, Jesus, and the Eyewitnesses, 47.

[2] Eusebius, Hist. Eccl. 3.11.

[3] Richard Bauckham, Jesus, and the Eyewitnesses, 39.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

Cold-Case Christianity: A Homicide Detective Investigates the Claims of the Gospels by J. Warner Wallace (Book)

The New Testament: Too Embarrassing to Be False by Frank Turek (MP3) and (DVD)

Why We Know the New Testament Writers Told the Truth by Frank Turek (mp4 Download)

The Top Ten Reasons We Know the NT Writers Told the Truth mp3 by Frank Turek

Counter Culture Christian: Is the Bible True? by Frank Turek (Mp3), (Mp4), and (DVD)      

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ryan Leasure holds a Master of Arts from Furman University and a Master of Divinity from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. Currently, he’s a Doctor of Ministry candidate at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He also serves as a pastor at Grace Bible Church in Moore, SC.

Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/avG9mjt

 

By David Pallmann

Many Christians believe that it is wrong to offer unbelievers evidence for the truth of Christianity.[1] They argue that the traditional method of apologetics dishonors Scripture by not giving it the respect it is due. The concern is that offering evidence for the truth of Scripture gives evidence more weight than Scripture. The argument might be framed this way:

  1. If some activity requires us to treat something as a higher authority than Scripture, as Christians, we should not do it.
  2. Giving evidence for the truth of Scripture requires us to treat evidence as a higher authority than Scripture.
  3. Therefore, as Christians, we should not give evidence for the truth of Scripture.

Michael Krueger expresses the basic sentiment when he says,

“If the method of argumentation communicates to the unbeliever that he should believe the Bible only because it has received the stamp of approval from science, archaeology, and historical criticism, those disciplines, not the Bible, will be his ultimate authority.”[2]

In this article, I hope to show that the traditional apologist can answer this type of argument in a two-fold fashion. Once we clearly understand what it means to say that Scripture is one’s highest authority, it will become clear that this belief is not in conflict with presenting evidence for the truth of Scripture. In short, traditional, evidence-based, apologetics is harmonious with the affirmation that Scripture is the Christian’s highest authority.

Two Types of Authority

It will be helpful to begin by distinguishing between two types of authority. The Polish philosopher Józef Maria Bocheński made an important distinction between deontic authority and epistemic authority.[3] A deontic authority is roughly an authority which is able to tell you how you should act. Examples would include your boss or a police officer. These are individuals who can, to some extent, tell you what to do.

An epistemic authority is quite different. Epistemic authorities can tell you what you should believe. Examples would include a scholar, a doctor, or some other sort of expert. These are knowledgeable individuals who can be appropriately called “authorities” in their respective fields.

The key distinction between a deontic authority and an epistemic authority lies in the domains over which they exert their authority. Deontic authorities tell you how to behave. Epistemic authorities tell you what to believe.

Applying the Distinction

Armed with an understanding of these two types of authority, let’s explicate what it means to say that Scripture is our highest authority. It seems quite evident that this typically refers to Scripture as a deontic authority. To say that Scripture is one’s highest authority is, in essence, to say that one ought to obey God rather than men (Acts 5:29). Scripture will dictate a Christian’s behavior even when Scripture conflicts with another authority (e.g the government).

Thus construed, it becomes evident that the original argument is guilty of equivocation. Premise 1 refers to deontic authority while premise 2 refers to epistemic authority. As such, under a deontic understanding of Scripture as one’s highest authority, the conclusion of the argument simply doesn’t follow.

Scripture as an Epistemic Authority

Although on a deontic conception of Scriptural authority, the argument is flawed, there is one complication. Scripture does not merely tell us how to act, but it also tells us what to believe. Thus, while it is true that Scripture is a deontic authority, it also appears to function as an epistemic authority. Should we regard Scripture as our highest epistemic authority as well?

To answer this question, we need a clearer understanding of the role that epistemic authorities play in the formation of justified beliefs. In the first place, we need to observe that beliefs which are held on the basis of epistemic authorities inherently have weaker justification than beliefs held on the basis of evidence. This is because, when information is gained via authority, there is a further link in the chain between the believer and the truth of the belief. When one believes a proposition on the basis of evidence, then his connection to the truth of the belief is much stronger. When one relies on an epistemic authority, they are trusting the authority to accurately relay his own beliefs which (hopefully!) are based on a body of evidence to which the believer does not have direct access. The indirectness of the belief allows more opportunities for mistakes to be made. So whenever a belief is held on the basis of an authority, it necessarily has a lower probability of being true than a belief based directly on evidence. The upshot here is that epistemic authorities are not valuable because of anything intrinsic to that authority. They are valuable because they are a means of connecting us with truth. Epistemic authorities are only useful insofar as they achieve that goal. As Richard Feldmen observes,

“Inferential rules aren’t good ones simply because experts use them. Rather, experts are good guides to good rules simply because they have the best insight into the matter.”[4]

Now, none of that is meant to disparage the importance and value of epistemic authorities. Clearly, we cannot become acquainted with all the relevant evidence for every possible belief. Epistemic authorities, therefore, provide us with a convenient way of gaining knowledge about something without examining it in detail. The cost of that convenience, however, is that one incurs a greater risk that their acquired belief is not true.

To minimize this risk, it is crucial that we have good reasons for regarding an authority as reliable. If there were no way for recognizing an authority as reliable then we would either have to blindly follow anything that claimed to be an authority, make an arbitrary selection about which authorities to believe, or else reject epistemic authorities altogether. As John DePoe notes,

“Authorities play a valuable epistemic role because they are avenues for justified beliefs and knowledge that are inaccessible to us without them, or they make the procurement of such epistemic good more convenient. … Importantly, however, for me to embrace [an] authority justifiably, I must have good reasons to trust the source as an authority in the domains where I regard it as an authority.”[5]

So it is not possible, in principle, to have a highest epistemic authority if this is meant to be understood as an authority being one’s primary source of knowledge. A subject must always choose to believe what an authority says. And to make an informed decision about which authorities to believe, one needs access to independent evidence.

Highest Epistemic Authority

As the above discussion makes clear, evidence has primacy when it comes to justification. There is no highest epistemic authority comparable to a highest deontic authority. It is by means of evidence that we adjudicate between various epistemic authorities and determine which one’s are to be trusted. This is not to deny that there can be a highest epistemic authority from among a range of authorities. For example, suppose I have a medical condition which two doctors wish to diagnose. One doctor has only examined my condition superficially while the other has examined me thoroughly. Both doctors are authorities, but the one who has examined me thoroughly is the higher authority, and, as such his diagnosis will be taken more seriously. In this situation, I could be said to have a highest epistemic authority. However, notice that the word “highest” is being used in a comparative and contextual sense. I regard one authority as highest from among other authorities with respect to a specific topic. In the same way, the Christian can make Scripture his highest authority from among other authorities (pastors, theologians, etc.) with respect to the nature, will, character, and revelation of God. Thus, there is a sense in which Scripture can be considered a highest epistemic authority when this is meant to be understood as an authority among others which is given the most epistemic weight.

But since evidence is required to adjudicate between competing authority claims, it retains an epistemic priority over any authority. Notice, however, that this entails that evidence is not itself an authority. Thus, under this conception of evidence and authority, the second premise of the original argument is false. It confuses justification with authority. While authorities can play a justificatory role, not all justification comes in the form of authorities. If it did, we would be without justification for trusting any purported authority as such.

A Final Consideration

It seems to me that Christians who use this sort of argument mean something rather different by “highest authority” than I specified above. They don’t mean that Scripture is merely their highest epistemic authority from among a range of authorities about some particular subject. They appear to mean that Scripture should actually be our primary source of knowledge. To make belief in Scripture conditional upon sufficient evidence does indeed admit that Scripture is not one’s primary source of knowledge.

But I don’t see why this should be a concern for the traditional apologist. Having faith in an authority on the basis of evidence does not compromise that authority’s status nor does it somehow make evidence a “higher authority” in any meaningful sense. It is simply to acknowledge that one needs justification for believing that an authority is authoritative. Perhaps some will find this objectionable. But what is the alternative? To believe on the basis of nothing? This is epistemic irresponsibility. Moreover, it seems impossible. For surely before one can believe the teachings of Scripture, one must become acquainted with them through either hearing or reading Scripture. This shows that Scripture cannot be one’s primary source of knowledge.

If the critic still wishes to maintain that the traditional apologist is making evidence a higher authority than Scripture, then we may simply respond that he has equated “highest authority” with “primary source of knowledge.” This is a definition of “authority” that the traditional apologist is entitled to reject. If the critic still wishes to retain this definition of the word, then it is evident, I think, that he is deliberately defining words in such a way that he can accuse those who dispute his conclusions of lowering the status of Scripture. In this case, he is deliberately muddying the waters. Under the critic’s definition, the traditional apologist need feel no discomfort for not making Scripture his “highest authority.” The critic is now using this term to get the traditional apologist to say something which the traditional apologist never believed.

Summary and Conclusion

In this article, I have briefly outlined an objection to traditional apologetics which states that the traditional method turns evidence into a higher authority than Scripture. We have seen that the traditional apologist may give a two-fold response. First, he may respond by stating that he takes Scripture to be his highest deontic authority, but not necessarily his highest epistemic authority. If the critic replies by pointing out that Scripture is also an epistemic authority, the traditional apologist may reply by saying that epistemic authorities are limited in scope to specific topics. Thus, while he may well regard Scripture as his highest epistemic authority with respect to truths about God, he need not regard it as his highest epistemic authority with respect to the belief that Scripture yields accurate information about God. Moreover, he may argue that evidence does not function as an epistemic authority but rather functions as a means of recognizing an authority as such. Obviously, if evidence is not a type of authority, then it cannot be a higher authority than Scripture.

I conclude, therefore, that once we have clarified what is meant by “the authority of Scripture,” arguments such as that offered in the introduction either equivocate, are insensitive to the nature of epistemic authorities, or else mistake all justification for being a type of authority. In each case, the argument fails to establish its conclusion. Hence, the traditional apologist may confidently present evidence for the truth of Scripture without thereby sacrificing the authority of Scripture.

Notes:

[1] In particular I have presuppositionalists in mind. However, similar arguments can be found among critics of apologetics more generally. Such arguments are, by no means, limited to presuppositionalists.

[2] Michael J. Krueger, “The Sufficiency of Scripture in Apologetics,” TMSJ 12/1 (Spring 2001) Pg. 69-87

[3] J. M. Bocheński, The Logic of Religion, New York: New York University Press, 1965, Pg. 164-167

[4] Richard Feldman, “Authoritarian Epistemology,” in Earl Conee and Richard Feldman, Evidentialism, New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2004, Pg. 127

[5] John M. DePoe, “A Classical Evidentialist Response to Covenantal Epistemology,” in Debating Christian Religious Epistemology, New York, NY: Bloomsbury, 2020, Pg. 167-168

Recommended resources related to the topic:

Cold-Case Christianity: A Homicide Detective Investigates the Claims of the Gospels by J. Warner Wallace (Book)

The New Testament: Too Embarrassing to Be False by Frank Turek (MP3) and (DVD)

Why We Know the New Testament Writers Told the Truth by Frank Turek (mp4 Download)

The Top Ten Reasons We Know the NT Writers Told the Truth mp3 by Frank Turek

Counter Culture Christian: Is the Bible True? by Frank Turek (Mp3), (Mp4), and (DVD)    

 

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David Pallmann is a student at Trinity College of the Bible and Theological Seminary. He is also a member of the Society of Evangelical Arminians and directs the YouTube Apologetics ministry Faith Because of Reason.

Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/XvdBeMB

 

By Erik Manning

Many of the early church fathers say that Mark’s Gospel is based on Peter’s preaching. If that’s the case, it’s understandable why an apostle like Matthew or someone like Luke would use Mark as a source. You can’t get much closer to the life of Jesus than through the eyes of Peter.

We’ve looked at what the early church fathers had to say about Mark before. However, skeptics like Bart Ehrman say that this whole idea that Mark based his Gospel on Peter’s preaching stems from Papias, and Papias doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

OK, so now what?

While I don’t think that argument works, what if I said there was a way to bypass this objection? Are there any internal clues in Mark’s Gospel that point to Peter being the source?

In this video, I look at six internal evidences that demonstrate that Peter is Mark’s main source.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

The New Testament: Too Embarrassing to Be False by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3, and Mp4) Why We Know the New Testament Writers Told the Truth by Frank Turek (DVD, Mp3 and Mp4)
Erik Manning is a Reasonable Faith Chapter Director located in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. He’s a former freelance baseball writer and the co-owner of a vintage and handmade decor business with his wife, Dawn. He is passionate about the intersection of apologetics and evangelism.
 
Original Blog Source: https://cutt.ly/Skw0LBH

By Wintery Knight

So, everyone from left to right accepts the early creed in 1 Corinthians 15:3-7 being dated to 1-3 years after the death of Jesus, even atheists like Crossley, Ludemann, and Crossan. The thing is, some people are not sure that the appearances of Jesus to individuals, groups, and skeptics really were physical appearances. They say, “well, Paul’s appearance was non-physical, so the other ones must have been, too.”

Let’s take a look.

Here’s a paragraph from my friend Eric Chabot, from his blog Think Apologetics. He explains why Paul’s use of the word “resurrection” to describe what the other witnesses saw means bodily resurrection.

He writes:

If Paul did have a vision, then the term “vision” is vague and must be defined. As Licona points out, visions are either objective (i.e., something that is seen without the use of our natural senses) or subjective (i.e., a  product of our minds). The real problem is with the vision hypothesis is that it doesn’t explain Paul’s use of resurrection to explain what had happened to Jesus.  The two words are used for resurrection in the New Testament “anastasis” (rising up) and “egersis” (waking up), both imply a physical body. Furthermore, the use of the word “opethe” (the Greek word for appeared) shows the Gospel writers did believe that Jesus appeared physically. “There you will see (opethe) him” (Matt. 28:7); “The Lord has risen and has appeared (opethe) to Simon” (Luke 24:24). When they used “opethe” here, it means that He appeared physically to them.

So when Paul gives his list of appearances in 1 Cor. 15, the issues become whether the appearance to him is the same as it was to the disciples. There is no doubt the post-resurrection body of Jesus (after the ascension) had to be somewhat different than the body the disciples saw. Also, whenever the New Testament mentions the word body, in the context of referring to an individual human being, the Greek word “soma” always refers to a literal, physical body. Greek specialist Robert Gundry says “the consistent and exclusive use of soma for the physical body in anthropological contexts resists dematerialization of the resurrection, whether by idealism or by existentialism.” [9] Furthermore, in N.T. Wright’s  The Resurrection of the Son of God shows that the Greek word for the resurrection which is “anastasis” was used by ancient Jews, pagans, and Christians as bodily in nature.

Now, I think my view on this, and I’m not sure if Eric would correct me, is that Paul got an objective but the non-physical vision of Jesus. There was something there that everyone else could see and hear, in my view. But in my view, Paul’s “veridical” vision was post-ascension and so non-physical. Paul uses the word resurrection to describe what the other eyewitnesses saw (and he met them at least twice, according to Gal 1 and Gal 2), and that means physical resurrected body.

Eric Chabot writes this in another place:

Now, I said before in 1 Corinthians 15, Paul could have chosen to only use the word pneuma. He doesn’t. He does say “spiritual,” but he’s got an adjective there. He also says, soma, “body.” What did Paul mean?

Philippians Chapter 3. It’s a short chapter. There are 21 verses, but Paul says three things in one chapter that indicate he’s talking about a physical resurrection. In the opening verses he says, “I was a Hebrew of the Hebrews” and “as touching the law,” he says, “I was a Pharisee.” Now, it’s very well known that the Pharisee believed in a bodily resurrection. In fact, according to Acts 23, as Paul was being taken captive by the Romans to prevent his being killed, he shouted out to the group of people and said, “Why are you taking me? Because I believe in the resurrec­tion of the dead?” He meant a literal resurrection.

When the Pharisees heard that, they said there’s nothing wrong with this guy. But the Sadducees [who didn’t believe in the Resurrection] didn’t like it. So as a Pharisee, he’s agreeing with the Pharisees.

So, the first evidence is from Philippians 3. As a Pharisee, Paul believes in a physical resur­rection.

Secondly, in verse 11 he says, “That I may attain the resurrection of the dead.” Now, the normal Greek word for resurrection is anastasis, but in this passage, Philippians 3:11, he puts a prefix on there, ek anastasis. Ekanastasis, according to all Greek scholars that I know of, is translated in this passage: “The out resurrection from among the dead.” Paul said, “I want to attain the out resurrection.”

Now, to a Jew, “out resurrection” means “what goes down is what comes up.” You come out from death. And then just a few verses later, Philippians 3:20,21, he said, “From Heaven, we look for Jesus who will change our vile soma (body) to be like unto His glorious soma (or body),” when he should have said pneuma, according to this other view.

So he’s a Pharisee who believes in a physical resurrection. Ek anastasis—“resurrection from out among the dead ones.”

Thirdly, Paul says, “He Jesus will change my body to be like His body.”

So right there in Philippians 3 alone, I think the picture of Jesus being some wispy spirit that appeared to him on the road to Damascus doesn’t fit Paul’s own data.

Yes, that’s why Philippians is my favorite book. You can get so much useful theology out of it. Something about the resurrection in Phil 3, something about Jesus’ divinity in Phil 2, and loads of practical advice on stewardship, charity, fellowship, endurance and practical love for others throughout. Some of it takes a little digging, but that’s what commentaries are for, am I right? But I digress.

If you want to read something a little more challenging, I found a paper from the Evangelical Theological Society (ETS) from their journal, where it talks more about soma and anastasis. If you want a bit of a challenge, download the PDF and read it. It’s by Kirk R. MacGregor, and the title is “1 Corinthians 15:3B–6A, 7 And The Bodily Resurrection Of Jesus.”

Recommended resources related to the topic:

Cold Case Resurrection Set by J. Warner Wallace (books)

Jesus, You and the Essentials of Christianity – Episode 14 Video DOWNLOAD by Frank Turek (DVD)

The Footsteps of the Apostle Paul (mp4 Download), (DVD) by Dr. Frank Turek

Early Evidence for the Resurrection by Dr. Gary Habermas (DVD), (Mp3) and (Mp4)