Tag Archive for: Jonathan McLatchie

Por Jonathan McLatchie

Una prueba de fuego común para la ortodoxia cristiana es la adhesión a la doctrina de la inerrancia bíblica, que sostiene que el texto bíblico, en los autógrafos originales, está completamente libre de errores en todo lo que afirma. La doctrina de la inerrancia se desarrolla y define cuidadosamente en la Declaración de Chicago sobre la Inerrancia Bíblica de 1978, que se puede encontrar aquí. En este artículo, voy a explorar los conceptos de la inspiración y la inerrancia de las Escrituras y a desarrollar cuidadosamente mi comprensión actual de este tema, y en particular cómo se relaciona con mi método apologético evidencialista. En pocas palabras, aunque defiendo la inspiración de las Escrituras y las considero altamente fiables, no veo que la inerrancia pueda deducirse de las Escrituras, al menos no con la suficiente claridad como para justificar un dogmatismo sobre el tema. En mi opinión, aunque hay algunos casos en las Escrituras que considero candidatos a errores menores, se puede suponer con seguridad que se hicieron de buena fe, y de ninguna manera ponen en duda la confiabilidad general de las Escrituras.

Para empezar, me gustaría invitar al lector a reflexionar sobre los conceptos de inspiración e inerrancia y lo que éstos sostienen.

16 Toda Escritura es inspirada por Dios y útil para enseñar, para reprender, para corregir, para instruir en justicia, 17 a fin de que el hombre de Dios sea perfecto, equipado para toda buena obra. (2 Tim 3:16-17).

La Biblia afirma aquí muy claramente que toda la Escritura es inspirada por Dios, y para descartar cualquier confusión, quiero afirmar muy claramente que mantengo esta declaración. Cuando piensas en el significado de “inspirado por Dios”, ¿qué te viene a la mente? ¿Evoca imágenes de Dios, a través de su Espíritu, dictando de alguna manera las palabras exactas, la sintaxis y el flujo argumental a las personas para que las escribieran; en otras palabras, que cada detalle de los libros de la Biblia fue determinado por Dios para que fuera exactamente como lo poseemos ahora? Podemos llamar a esto la “teoría del dictado” de la inspiración. Si esta hipótesis es la correcta, ¿qué opina del hecho de que, por ejemplo, los cuatro evangelios revelen diferentes personalidades autorales? De hecho, los distintos autores bíblicos suelen tener más gusto por determinadas palabras que por otras (como el uso frecuente que hace Marcos de la palabra εὐθὺς, que significa “inmediatamente”). O ¿por qué cree que Dios le dictó a Pablo que le pidiera a Timoteo que trajera su capa (2 Tim 4:13)? En Romanos 16:22, Tercio, el escriba de Pablo, interviene: “Yo, Tercio, que escribo esta carta, os saludo en el Señor.” La Escritura registra incluso un lapsus de memoria, ya que Pablo anota: “También bauticé a los de la casa de Estéfanas; por lo demás, no sé si bauticé a algún otro” (1 Cor 1:16). Además, el texto bíblico utiliza diferentes estilos literarios, desde el lenguaje realista de un campesino hebreo (Amós) hasta la poesía exaltada de Isaías. La Biblia también revela un abanico de diferentes emociones humanas, como la “gran tristeza” (Rom 9:2), la ira (Gal 3:1), la soledad (2 Tim 4:9-16) y la alegría (Fil 1:4).

Como tal vez puedas ver ya, la cuestión de lo que significa que la Escritura haya sido inspirada por Dios no está tan clara como podría parecer a primera vista. Por supuesto, para el erudito y el teólogo, esto no será una novedad, ya que la teoría del dictado de la inspiración ha sido ampliamente rechazada desde hace tiempo entre los pensadores cristianos, en gran medida por las razones expuestas anteriormente, entre otras muchas. Más adelante en este artículo, ofreceré mi opinión personal sobre lo que significa que la Biblia sea la palabra inspirada de Dios. Pero por ahora, volvamos a la cuestión de la inerrancia y examinemos qué es y si se puede deducir de la propia Biblia.

Inerrancia fuerte vs. débil

Distingo entre una forma fuerte de inerrancia (lo que a veces llamo inerrancia dogmática o a priori) y una forma débil de inerrancia (lo que a veces llamo inerrancia inductiva). La Declaración de Chicago refleja la forma fuerte de inerrancia, según la cual un cristiano fiel no puede admitir, ni siquiera en principio, ningún error bíblico. En su forma más fuerte, este punto de vista establece una visión extremadamente frágil de las Escrituras, que esencialmente insinúa que si se identificara un error en la Biblia, se demostraría que el cristianismo es falso. Aunque esto rara vez se afirma de forma tan explícita, a menudo está implícito. Norman Geisler, por ejemplo, defiende una forma fuerte de inerrancia, según la cual la Biblia no sólo no contiene errores, sino que no puede contenerlos.[1] Generalmente, cuando alguien pregunta si tú afirmas la inerrancia, tiene en mente esta forma fuerte de inerrancia.

Esto pone una vara muy baja para que el escéptico ofrezca razones suficientes para rechazar el cristianismo, ya que la Biblia es un gran libro con muchas miles de afirmaciones históricas que pueden ser evaluadas críticamente. Esto, a su vez, hace que los cristianos pierdan su fe, ya que la duda sobre la inerrancia se toma a menudo no sólo como un impulso para pensar más cuidadosamente sobre la naturaleza de la inspiración, sino como una razón de peso para reconsiderar la verdad de la cosmovisión cristiana en su conjunto. Aunque los defensores de esta forma fuerte de inerrancia suelen argumentar que la inspiración divina de las Escrituras implica su inerrancia, esta línea de razonamiento puede emplearse en dos direcciones: es decir, en la medida en que la doctrina de la inspiración implica la inerrancia, la demostración exitosa de probables errores en las Escrituras es epistémicamente relevante para la cuestión de si el texto bíblico es de hecho inspirado. En otras palabras, si es cierto que la inspiración implica la inerrancia, entonces no sólo los argumentos a favor de la inspiración proporcionan pruebas que confirman la inerrancia, sino que los argumentos contra la exactitud de las afirmaciones contenidas en la Biblia también proporcionan pruebas que desconfirman la inspiración.

Un punto de vista alternativo, que considero más razonable, es la forma débil de inerrancia, que deja abierta la posibilidad de descubrir que hay errores en las Escrituras, pero manteniendo que no hay errores de hecho (al igual que un libro de texto universitario podría en principio contener errores, pero de hecho puede no tenerlos). Esta última perspectiva es la que más se acerca a mi punto de vista, aunque creo que hay un puñado de detalles relatados por la Escritura para los que se puede argumentar razonablemente, teniendo en cuenta todas las cosas, que un error es la mejor explicación.

Las consecuencias de la demostración exitosa de errores en la Escritura

Me ocuparé ahora de evaluar las consecuencias epistémicas de la identificación de uno o varios errores en la Escritura. Si eres de la opinión de que no hay errores en las Escrituras, te pido que consideres esta cuestión simplemente como una hipótesis. Hay que reconocer que una demostración de la falsedad de la inerrancia constituiría una prueba contra la inspiración y, a su vez, contra el cristianismo, ya que hay que admitir que existe una cierta tendencia a la inerrancia si se sostiene que un libro está inspirado divinamente en algún sentido significativo, aunque no estoy convencido de que la inspiración implique necesariamente la inerrancia, dependiendo del modelo de inspiración que se adopte (como trataré más adelante). Es importante distinguir aquí entre evidencia y prueba. Un dato puede tender a desconfirmar una proposición (es decir, reducir un poco su probabilidad) sin que ello implique su falsedad. En principio, las pruebas de desconfirmación pueden superarse con suficientes pruebas de confirmación, y es normal que las proposiciones tengan tanto pruebas de confirmación como de desconfirmación.[2]

A algunos les puede preocupar que se espere que Dios garantice que las Escrituras no tengan errores, aunque hayan llegado a nosotros por medios humanos. Sin embargo, dado que hay cierto nivel de ambigüedad, a veces, incluso con respecto a lo que decía el autógrafo original, parece ser una conclusión razonable que, en lo que respecta a Dios, no es importante que tengamos certeza sobre cada pequeño detalle reportado en el texto bíblico. Por ejemplo, es famoso que Jesús dijera desde la cruz: “Padre, perdónalos, porque no saben lo que hacen” (Lc 23:34). Sin embargo, muchos manuscritos importantes carecen de este versículo, lo que crea un cierto nivel de ambigüedad respecto a si este dicho forma parte del autógrafo original. Bruce Metzger comenta: “La ausencia de estas palabras en testigos tan tempranos y diversos… es muy impresionante y difícilmente puede explicarse como una escisión deliberada por parte de los copistas que, considerando la caída de Jerusalén como una prueba de que Dios no había perdonado a los judíos, no podían permitir que pareciera que la oración de Jesús había quedado sin respuesta”. Al mismo tiempo, el logion, aunque probablemente no forme parte del Evangelio original de Lucas, tiene indicios evidentes de su origen dominical, y fue conservado, entre dobles corchetes, en su lugar tradicional, donde había sido incorporado por copistas desconocidos en una época relativamente temprana de la transmisión del Tercer Evangelio”.[3] Con toda seguridad, la evidencia textual del Nuevo Testamento es suficiente para confiar en que lo que tenemos en nuestras Biblias es sustancialmente lo mismo que fue escrito por los autores originales, aunque quedan algunos casos en los que no se puede afirmar con seguridad la lectura original. La doctrina de la inerrancia, tal como se entiende convencionalmente, se aplica sólo a los autógrafos originales. Sin embargo, si la inerrancia era tan importante en los autógrafos originales, cabe preguntarse por qué Dios no preservó la inerrancia en la transmisión textual. Además, dado que, como ya he señalado, las Escrituras registran un lapsus de memoria (1 Cor 1:16), ¿no es al menos concebible que Dios pudiera potencialmente permitir que alguien recordara mal algo relativamente menor, como una secuencia precisa de eventos, etc.?

Dado que la inerrancia es una proposición de “todo o nada”, una vez que se ha admitido un solo error (y, por tanto, se ha falsificado la inerrancia), el peso probatorio contra el cristianismo que tienen las demostraciones posteriores de tipos de errores similares se reduce sustancialmente. Algunos errores propuestos tendrían mayores consecuencias que otros. Algunos errores afectarían sólo a la doctrina de la inerrancia (además de ser epistémicamente relevantes para la fiabilidad sustancial de determinados libros bíblicos), mientras que otros (como la inexistencia de un sólido Adán histórico, por ejemplo), al estar inextricablemente ligados a otras proposiciones centrales del cristianismo, serían mucho más graves.

Diferentes fuentes de errores y sus consecuencias

Otro factor que influye en la consecuencia epistémica de los errores bíblicos es el origen de los mismos. Las distorsiones deliberadas de los hechos, por ejemplo, tienen un efecto negativo mucho mayor tanto en la doctrina de que el libro es inspirado como en la fiabilidad sustancial del documento que los errores introducidos de buena fe. Una preocupación habitual de los inerrantistas es que admitir la presencia de un error en la Escritura conduce necesariamente a una pendiente resbaladiza, ya que entonces todo texto puede considerarse “en juego”. Esta objeción supone que no hay un modo fiable de discernir lo que es verdadero en la Escritura, a menos que asumamos que todo lo es. Sin embargo, esta crítica parece basarse en la falsa premisa de que suponer la inerrancia da una certeza del cien por ciento sobre cada afirmación de la Escritura. Esto, sin embargo, es falso, ya que se trata siempre de una valoración probabilística. Se puede objetar aquí que los que sostienen una forma fuerte de inerrancia hacen una estipulación a priori de la inerrancia, que implica una certeza del cien por ciento sobre la veracidad de cada afirmación de la Escritura. Sin embargo, si este es el caso, entonces tiene poco sentido hablar de pruebas a favor o en contra de la veracidad de cualquier afirmación proposicional concreta contenida en los relatos bíblicos, ya que las pruebas, por definición, aumentan o reducen la probabilidad de una hipótesis.

Además, creo que podemos demostrar inductivamente (a partir de un caso acumulativo basado en numerosas confirmaciones y corroboraciones de las Escrituras) que los documentos bíblicos se ajustan mucho a los hechos, son habitualmente veraces y sustancialmente dignos de confianza. Eso significa que cualquier afirmación que hagan estas fuentes constituye una prueba confirmatoria prima facie de que esos hechos ocurrieron realmente. Por lo tanto, está justificado creer incluso en detalles de las Escrituras para los que actualmente carecemos de una confirmación directa basada en la naturaleza de estos documentos. Un documento que ha demostrado ser sustancialmente fiable proporciona pruebas de su contenido, incluidas las proposiciones que no pueden ser confirmadas de forma independiente. Por lo tanto, si se demuestra que los Evangelios y Hechos son sustancialmente fiables (como yo sostengo), queda una base inductiva para confiar en los relatos incluso en aquellos asuntos que no pueden ser verificados independientemente. Este argumento inductivo no es incompatible con la existencia de algunos errores de buena fe. Se puede hacer un caso similar con respecto a los libros del Antiguo Testamento, aunque esto requiere mucho más trabajo para demostrarlo (ya que el Antiguo Testamento es mucho más grande que el Nuevo Testamento, y se refiere a eventos que están significativamente más alejados de nosotros en el tiempo que aquellos de los que se ocupa el Nuevo Testamento). Sin embargo, se pueden aducir importantes pruebas indirectas a favor de la fiabilidad del Antiguo Testamento (o al menos los lineamientos generales de la historia judía) a partir del testimonio de Jesús, suponiendo (como creo que es el caso) que los argumentos que confirman la identidad de Jesús como Dios encarnado (como el caso de su resurrección) se mantengan. Si, por otro lado, resultara que hay casos de fabricaciones deliberadas en los relatos bíblicos, entonces sí se produciría el problema de la pendiente resbaladiza que preocupa a los inerrantistas. Si los autores están dispuestos a distorsionar la verdad en una o más ocasiones, entonces uno podría preguntarse razonablemente qué más se ha tergiversado.

El punto de vista de la inerrancia fuerte también conlleva una posible pendiente resbaladiza

Además, la forma fuerte de inerrancia se encuentra con un problema similar, posiblemente más grave, de pendiente resbaladiza si las armonizaciones de uno emplean teorías de composición literaria de ficción (como las propuestas por Michael Licona).[4] Por ejemplo, si era una práctica aceptable en la época, y también una característica de los evangelios, que escenas enteras pudieran ser inventadas o detalles cambiados con el fin de hacer un punto teológico (como se sugiere en Why are there differences in the gospels? De Michael Licona), ¿cómo se puede estar seguro de que cualquier detalle en los evangelios no ha sido objeto de esta práctica? Afortunadamente, no creo que las pruebas que aporta Licona justifiquen sus conclusiones (por ejemplo, véase el libro de respuesta de Lydia McGrew The Mirror or the Mask (El espejo o la máscara) para una discusión y crítica detalladas de la tesis de Licona).[5]

En mi opinión, la opción epistémicamente menos costosa es adoptar el punto de vista que represento en este artículo. Por supuesto, también existe la opción de confesar la ignorancia y afirmar abiertamente que actualmente no sabemos cómo armonizar estos textos. Sin embargo, esto, en mi opinión, parece ir en contra del espíritu del evidencialismo, en el que uno opta por seguir las pruebas hasta donde le lleven.

¿Afirma la Escritura inequívocamente la inerrancia?

Vale la pena señalar que en ninguna parte de las Escrituras se afirma inequívocamente la inerrancia. Probablemente el texto más fuerte que sugiere la inerrancia es Juan 10:34 donde Jesús, refiriéndose al Antiguo Testamento, afirma que “la Escritura no se puede violar”. Aunque este texto crea un buen caso prima facie para la inerrancia, se supera con bastante facilidad si se descubren pruebas reales de errores fácticos concretos en las Escrituras. En ese caso, probablemente esté justificado interpretar que Jesús se refiere a los mandamientos de la Escritura y a sus enseñanzas morales y teológicas (cf. Mt 5:19; Jn 7:23), que es como está utilizando el Salmo en el contexto de este versículo. Se puede argumentar con más fuerza que Jesús afirmó la fiabilidad sustancial de las Escrituras del Antiguo Testamento, especialmente cuando Jesús se refiere a los acontecimientos. Por ejemplo, en Marcos 2:25-26, Jesús dice a los fariseos: “Y Él les dijo: ¿Nunca habéis leído lo que David hizo cuando tuvo necesidad y sintió hambre, él y sus compañeros, cómo entró en la casa de Dios en tiempos de Abiatar, el sumo sacerdote, y comió los panes consagrados que no es lícito a nadie comer, sino a los sacerdotes, y dio también a los que estaban con él?” Aunque este texto (y otros similares) sugiere con bastante fuerza que Jesús consideraba que la Biblia hebrea era sustancialmente digna de confianza, incluso esta interpretación está sujeta a dudas. Lo que me parece muy seguro es que Jesús afirmó los lineamientos generales de la historia judía tal y como los relatan las Escrituras hebreas. Hay que señalar que esto no requiere necesariamente que la propia Biblia hebrea sea fiable (aunque creo que las pruebas sugieren con fuerza que lo es; véase la lista de recursos más abajo).

Siempre que se interpreta un texto escrito, especialmente un texto antiguo, suele haber cierto grado de incertidumbre en la interpretación. El significado de algunos pasajes es más incierto que el de otros. Cuanto menor sea la probabilidad de nuestra interpretación, más fácil será superar el peso probatorio de esos textos con otras pruebas. De hecho, ésta es la base del principio hermenéutico común de que los pasajes menos claros deben interpretarse a la luz de los más claros. En cierto sentido, pues, todo está estratificado. ¿Implican las palabras de Jesús que el Antiguo Testamento es inerrante? Es plausible, pero no muy seguro. ¿Implican que todo el Antiguo Testamento es sustancialmente fiable? Bastante probable, pero todavía discutible. ¿Implican que David existió y que ciertos eventos particulares tuvieron lugar? Muy probable. Para resumir mi argumento, el caso de que Jesús creyera que David existió es obviamente mucho más fuerte que el caso de que creyera que todo el libro en el que ocurrió esa historia es fiable. Hay un buen caso para esto último, sin duda. Pero me parece poco probable que sea lo suficientemente fuerte como para que tengamos que desechar las pruebas tan convincentes de la identidad de Jesús (como el caso de la resurrección) si resulta que no es cierto. Algunos querrán señalar aquí que otro factor relevante es la probabilidad de que los informes de los evangelios ofrezcan un informe preciso de las cosas que dijo Jesús, en particular en relación con el Antiguo Testamento. Sin embargo, considero que la probabilidad aquí es bastante alta, dado el gran número de declaraciones que Jesús hace en los evangelios en relación con el Antiguo Testamento, combinado con la evidencia (que considero bastante sustancial) de que los evangelios proporcionan relatos sustancialmente fiables del ministerio y las enseñanzas de Jesús. Además, ciertos aspectos del ministerio de Jesús (como su cumplimiento del simbolismo de la Pascua, la relación de su muerte con la caída de Adán, su condición de Mesías davídico prometido en el Antiguo Testamento) implican que, al menos, los lineamientos generales de la historia judía, relatados en las Escrituras hebreas, son verdaderos. (Para evitar cualquier confusión, en este artículo no estoy discutiendo la fiabilidad del Antiguo Testamento per se. Lo que estoy examinando es lo que significa para la fiabilidad del Antiguo Testamento el hecho de que Jesús mencione pasajes y personas del Antiguo Testamento).

Debido a la naturaleza religiosamente significativa del acontecimiento de la resurrección, la inerrancia y fiabilidad del Antiguo Testamento, así como la veracidad de los lineamientos generales de la historia judía tal como se relata en la Biblia, son epistémicamente relevantes para la probabilidad previa de la resurrección. Es común entre los apologistas afirmar que, si se pueden aducir pruebas suficientes para apoyar la proposición de que Jesús resucitó de entre los muertos (un acontecimiento que se considera, con razón, la reivindicación por parte de Dios de las auto proclamaciones mesiánicas y divinas de Jesús), entonces se deduce necesariamente que el Antiguo Testamento debe ser fiable, ya que Jesús afirmó la inspiración y la fiabilidad de la Biblia hebrea. Este argumento tiene algo de cierto, ya que el testimonio de Jesús proporciona una prueba indirecta que confirma la inspiración y la fiabilidad del Antiguo Testamento. Sin embargo, también hay que reconocer que este argumento puede aplicarse en ambas direcciones. Las demostraciones exitosas de la falsedad de la inerrancia, de la falta de fiabilidad del Antiguo Testamento y de la falsedad de los lineamientos generales de la historia judía relatados en la Biblia hebrea serían evidencias indirectas que desconfirmarían la resurrección (por la vía de reducir la probabilidad previa -es decir, la probabilidad de que Jesús resucitara dada sólo la información de fondo-), aunque su valor probatorio para desconfirmar la resurrección sería variable.

Un matiz importante que a menudo se pasa por alto es que no es necesario que el texto del Antiguo Testamento sea fiable para que el argumento general, o incluso los detalles particulares, sean correctos (aunque yo mismo sostengo que la Biblia hebrea es un conjunto de documentos sustancialmente fiables y, por lo tanto, la siguiente discusión debe tomarse como puramente hipotética). Si se demostrara con éxito que los libros que componen la Biblia hebrea no son fiables desde el punto de vista histórico, se eliminaría la evidencia directa de los acontecimientos en cuestión, mientras que se dejaría intacta la evidencia indirecta (es decir, el testimonio de Jesús combinado con el caso de su deidad). Los documentos poco fiables son como el “ruido”, lo que significa que sus afirmaciones proposicionales no proporcionan por sí mismas pruebas de lo que afirman. Sin embargo, de esto no se deduce que la mayoría, todas o incluso las afirmaciones más destacadas contenidas en esos documentos sean falsas. Así, aunque hubiera pruebas positivas que revelaran que el Antiguo Testamento no es fiable, esto no sería necesariamente una razón positiva para concluir que, por ejemplo, David no existió o que el Éxodo no ocurrió. Una novela histórica puede ser una fuente de información poco fiable para un historiador, pero una demostración en ese sentido no implicaría que varias proposiciones de la novela no pudieran deducirse como verdaderas por otros motivos. Así, aunque las fuentes históricas contenidas en el Antiguo Testamento resultasen poco fiables, se podría concluir racionalmente, como mínimo, que las proposiciones clave del Antiguo Testamento son ciertas sobre la base de una prueba indirecta, a saber, el testimonio de Jesús. Por lo tanto, soy de la opinión de que para reducir la probabilidad previa de la resurrección lo suficiente como para superar el caso acumulativo positivo a favor de la misma, habría que hacer algo más que simplemente mostrar la falta de fiabilidad del Antiguo Testamento: también habría que montar un caso positivo fuerte de que las proposiciones importantes (como la historicidad de Adán; la aparición de Dios a Abraham, Isaac y Jacob; el Éxodo; la existencia del rey David y las promesas de Dios a él, etc.) son falsas. La carga de la prueba asociada a la negación de esas proposiciones sería un reto a cumplir.

Para que conste, creo que se puede hacer un caso convincente para la fiabilidad sustancial del Antiguo Testamento, y la discusión anterior debe ser tomada puramente hipotética!!!!!!!!!!!!!. Para cualquier persona interesada en este caso, aquí hay una lista de libros y recursos que recomendaría:

  • Kenneth A. Kitchen, On the Reliability of the Old Testament(Grand Rapids, MI; Cambridge, U.K.: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2006).
  • Walter C. Kaiser Jr., The Old Testament Documents: Are They Reliable & Relevant? (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2001), 92–93.
  • Clive Anderson y Brian Edwards, Evidence for the Bible (Leominster: Day One, 2014).
  • Daniel I. Block, ed., Israel — Ancient Kingdom or Late Invention? (North Nashville, TN: B&H Publishing Group, 2008).
  • James K. Hoffmeier, Alan R. Millard, & Gary A. Rendsburg, ed. “Did I Not Bring Israel Out of Egypt?” Biblical, Archaeological, and Egyptological Perspectives on the Exodus Narratives, Bulletin for Biblical Research Supplement 13 (University Park, PA: Eisenbrauns, 2016).
  • Gleason Archer Jr., A Survey of Old Testament Introduction, 3rd. ed. (Chicago: Moody Press, 1994).
  • Titus Kennedy, “Is the Exodus History? A Conversation with Dr. Titus Kennedy?”, entrevistado por Jonathan McLatchie, Apologetics Academy, May 21, 2020, video, https://youtu.be/czUyRQ6rUXw
  • Stephen C. Meyer, “Is the Bible Reliable? Building the Historical Case,” TrueU Season 2, Focus on the Family, 2011, video series,
    https://www.amazon.com/How-Archaeology-Backs-New-Testament/dp/B00XWWV3O0/

Hay muchos otros buenos recursos, por supuesto, pero esto debería ser más que suficiente para que empieces a investigar.

Un modelo propuesto de inspiración bíblica

Si la inerrancia es falsa, ¿cómo puede afectar eso a la doctrina de la inspiración? Está claro que el concepto bíblico de inspiración no es como el concepto musulmán, que realmente implica la inerrancia en sentido fuerte. La opinión tradicional entre los musulmanes suníes es que el Corán ha sido inscrito en tablas en el Paraíso para toda la eternidad (Surah 85:22). Todos los musulmanes consideran que el Corán fue dictado por el ángel Gabriel al supuesto profeta Mahoma durante un periodo de veintitrés años, desde diciembre del 609 hasta el 632 d.C., cuando murió Mahoma. Según el punto de vista islámico, el Corán representa realmente el discurso directo de Alá. Podemos llamar a esta visión de la inspiración “teoría del dictado”. Históricamente, los cristianos no han sostenido la teoría del dictado de la inspiración, y por muy buenas razones, ya que este punto de vista está plagado de problemas muy graves, como se ha comentado anteriormente.

Si se descarta la teoría del dictado, ¿qué interpretación de la inspiración debe preferirse? Desafortunadamente, la Escritura no es nada clara en cuanto a lo que significa exactamente que la Escritura sea, como dijo Pablo, θεόπνευστος (“inspirada por Dios”) (2 Tim 3:16). Mi teoría de la inspiración, a la que no puedo concebir una alternativa plausible después de que la teoría del dictado está fuera de la mesa, es que Dios designó a ciertos individuos -apóstoles y profetas- a los que impartió ideas reveladoras especiales. Luego, encomendó a esas personas que escribieran lo que Dios les había dado a conocer en su propia voz. Esto significa que, en principio, los mismos conceptos podrían haberse expresado con palabras completamente diferentes y seguirían teniendo la autoridad de ser la Palabra de Dios. Por tanto, en mi opinión, no son las palabras de la Escritura las que están inspiradas, sino el significado de la Escritura. Por supuesto, hay excepciones en las que las Escrituras fueron dictadas por Dios (en particular, los diez mandamientos y los pasajes “Así dice el Señor”). Debido a la naturaleza de esos pasajes, yo sostendría que esos son verdaderamente inerrantes en el sentido fuerte.

Una de las objeciones que he encontrado al punto de vista que propongo aquí es que implica que el centro de la inspiración son los autores y no las propias Escrituras, mientras que en 2 Timoteo 3:16-17 se afirma que es la Escritura la que es “inspirada por Dios”. Sin embargo, esta objeción me parece que es una división de opiniones. Evidentemente, sea cual sea el punto de vista de la inspiración que se adopte, son los autores los que son objeto de inspiración (ya que el texto bíblico fue escrito por hombres y el texto refleja las personalidades y estilos distintivos de sus autores humanos). Si uno se aleja de la teoría del dictado de la inspiración, como se ve obligado por muchos factores, entonces me parece que un escenario que es al menos similar al punto de vista que he propuesto es la única alternativa viable.

El caso de la armonización

Aunque no estoy comprometido con la inerrancia como cuestión de principios, soy un ávido defensor de la práctica de la armonización. Las fuentes que han demostrado ser sustancialmente fiables constituyen una prueba de sus afirmaciones. Esto es cierto tanto si se trata de un texto de importancia religiosa como de otro tipo. Por lo tanto, si uno identifica una aparente discrepancia entre fuentes fiables (como los evangelios), el curso de acción racional es buscar una forma plausible de armonizar esos textos. Aunque esta práctica se suele rechazar en la erudición bíblica, creo que el sesgo académico contra la armonización es bastante irracional. Considero que la armonización es una práctica académica buena y responsable, tanto si se trata de fuentes religiosas significativas como de fuentes seculares. Se debe permitir que las diferentes fuentes que se cruzan en su informe de un evento particular se iluminen y aclaren mutuamente. También creo que las fuentes que han demostrado ser altamente fiables deben recibir el beneficio de la duda cuando hay una aparente discrepancia. En mi opinión, en tales casos, se deben buscar armonizaciones razonables como primer puerto de escala y sólo se debe concluir que el autor está equivocado si las posibles armonizaciones son inverosímiles. Lydia McGrew expone bien este punto[6]:

La armonización no es un ejercicio esotérico o religioso. Los cristianos que estudian la Biblia no deben dejarse intimidar por la insinuación de que se dedican a la armonización sólo por sus compromisos teológicos y que, por tanto, están falseando los datos por razones no académicas. Por el contrario, cabe esperar que las fuentes históricas fiables sean armonizables, y normalmente lo son cuando se conocen todos los hechos. Intentar ver cómo encajan entre sí es un método extremadamente fructífero, que a veces incluso da lugar a conexiones como las coincidencias no diseñadas de las que se habla en Hidden in Plain View. Esta es la razón por la que persigo la armonización ordinaria entre las fuentes históricas y por la que a menudo concluyo que una armonización es correcta.

Los lectores que estén interesados en el caso de la sólida fiabilidad de los relatos evangélicos están invitados a leer otros artículos que he publicado sobre este tema o a escuchar esta entrevista.

Una consideración importante en lo que respecta a la evaluación de las armonizaciones, que a menudo se pasa por alto, es que el peso probatorio de un error o una contradicción propuestos en las Escrituras se relaciona no tanto con la probabilidad de cualquiera de las armonizaciones propuestas como con la disyunción de las probabilidades asociadas a cada una de las armonizaciones candidatas. Para poner un ejemplo simplista, si uno tiene cuatro armonizaciones que tienen cada una un 10% de probabilidad de ser correctas, entonces el peso probatorio del problema es significativamente menor que si sólo se tuviera una de ellas, ya que la disyunción de las probabilidades relevantes sería del 40%. Por lo tanto, el texto sólo tendría una probabilidad ligeramente mayor de ser erróneo que de no serlo (y los argumentos inductivos a favor de la fiabilidad sustancial pueden inclinar la balanza a favor de dar al autor el beneficio de la duda). En realidad, por supuesto, las matemáticas son bastante más complicadas que esto, ya que hay que considerar si alguna de las armonizaciones se superpone o se implica de tal manera que las probabilidades no pueden sumarse entre sí. Por supuesto, si algunos de los disyuntos tienen una probabilidad muy baja de ser correctos, entonces no serán de mucha ayuda.

Fuertes candidatos a errores en las Escrituras

En esta sección, quiero discutir un puñado de ejemplos de proposiciones históricas contenidas en las Escrituras que considero fuertes candidatos a ser errores reales en los autógrafos originales. A veces otros cristianos me disuaden de discutir públicamente las evidencias que tienden a desconfirmar el cristianismo, aunque yo sostengo que esas evidencias están suficientemente contrarrestadas por evidencias confirmatorias más fuertes y numerosas. El razonamiento de estos disuasores es que, al llamar la atención sobre los aspectos más problemáticos de las pruebas, corro el riesgo de hacer que la gente, quizá los jóvenes creyentes, duden de la verdad del cristianismo. Comprendo muy bien y aprecio esta preocupación. Tengo un afecto particular por los cristianos que luchan con dudas intelectuales y durante varios años he dirigido un servicio de asesoramiento en línea para los cristianos que luchan con dudas racionales. Sin embargo, creo que la integridad intelectual me obliga a dar a conocer los puntos fuertes y débiles de la interpretación cristiana de las evidencias relevantes, a expresar cómo interpreto yo los datos y a permitir que la gente llegue a sus propias conclusiones. El apologista no está llamado a asumir el papel de abogado defensor, comprometiéndose a defender la veracidad de su posición pase lo que pase. Más bien, el apologista debe asumir el papel de un periodista de investigación, informando para el consumo popular de los resultados de una investigación justa y equilibrada. Si no estamos dispuestos a hablar públicamente de las vulnerabilidades intelectuales de la posición cristiana, ¿qué nos diferencia de personas como el clérigo musulmán Yasir Qadhi, que recientemente dijo en una entrevista con Mohammed Hijab que las pruebas que desafían la narrativa estándar de la preservación del Corán no deben ser discutidas en público?

Por supuesto, esta actitud no se limita a la apologética religiosa, como ha puesto de manifiesto la reciente censura durante las elecciones estadounidenses por parte de los medios de comunicación y las redes sociales de información que podría disuadir a la gente de votar por Biden y Harris. En 2010, dos ateos, el filósofo Jerry Fodor y el científico cognitivo Massimo Piattelli-Palmarini, publicaron un libro en el que planteaban varias cuestiones que consideraban problemas sin respuesta relacionados con la teoría de la evolución por selección natural de Darwin.[7] En el precio, señalan,

Más de un colega nos ha dicho que, aunque Darwin se equivocara sustancialmente al afirmar que la selección natural es el mecanismo de la evolución, no debemos decirlo. No, en todo caso, en público. Hacerlo es, aunque sea inadvertidamente, alinearse con las Fuerzas de la Oscuridad, cuyo objetivo es desprestigiar la Ciencia. No estamos de acuerdo. Creemos que la manera de incomodar a las Fuerzas de la Oscuridad es seguir los argumentos dondequiera que nos lleven, difundiendo la luz que uno pueda en el curso de hacerlo. Lo que hace que las Fuerzas de la Oscuridad sean oscuras es que no están dispuestas a hacer eso. Lo que hace que la Ciencia sea científica es que lo es.

Estoy muy de acuerdo con el espíritu de esos comentarios. De hecho, como en el caso de la evolución, si el cristianismo es verdadero (que estoy convencido de que lo es), no deberíamos temer que la gente esté expuesta a toda la información que necesita para formarse su propia opinión. Por supuesto, esto no justifica la imprudencia. Uno debe tener cuidado de hacer la debida diligencia en la realización de un análisis adecuado de las pruebas pertinentes antes de dejar constancia de las pruebas que son problemáticas, al igual que uno debe hacer antes de dejar constancia de las pruebas que confirman la verdad del cristianismo.

A continuación, expondré un pequeño puñado de casos en los que creo que se puede argumentar razonablemente que los relatos evangélicos son erróneos, aunque sostengo que todos esos ejemplos son explicables de forma plausible como el resultado de un error cometido de buena fe, y no de una distorsión deliberada de los hechos. Para los ejemplos que siguen estoy convencido de que la mejor explicación es una variación en la memoria de los testigos oculares. Aunque he seleccionado ejemplos para los que no creo que ninguna de las armonizaciones tradicionales funcione (o que sean, al menos, bastante menos plausibles que la hipótesis del error), estoy abierto a que me convenzan de lo contrario.

Nuestro primer ejemplo es la localización que hace Mateo de la maldición de la higuera y su vinculación con el día de la limpieza del Templo. Marcos 11:12 da a entender que la limpieza del templo tuvo lugar después de la maldición de la higuera, mientras que Mateo 21:18 da a entender que la maldición de la higuera tuvo lugar al día siguiente de la limpieza del templo. Aunque los antiguos a veces narraban los acontecimientos a-cronológicamente (es decir, sin precisión cronológica), no hay ninguna razón para creer que los antiguos consideraran una práctica aceptable narrar los acontecimientos históricos de forma discronológica (es decir, incluyendo marcadores temporales que tergiversan o engañan respecto a la cronología de los acontecimientos).

Nuestro segundo ejemplo es la cuestión del centurión que acude a Jesús en Mateo 8 frente a que él envía a Jesús a los ancianos de los judíos en Lucas 7. Los armonizadores tradicionales intentan a menudo establecer un paralelismo entre esto y pasajes como Mateo 27:26/Marco 15:15/Juan 19:1 en los que se nos dice que Pilato azotó a Jesús (cuando en realidad, sabemos que no fue el propio Pilato quien hizo la flagelación sino los soldados bajo su mando).[8] Sin embargo, en este último caso, sabemos que nadie habría pensado que Pilato azotó personalmente a Jesús, mientras que esto es muy diferente de lo que tenemos en el caso del centurión. En Mateo, hay indicios bastante claros (a mi entender) de que Mateo pensó que el centurión vino en persona. Lydia McGrew señala varios problemas con la armonización tradicional de estos textos: “La narración de Mateo es bastante unificada en su apariencia de que el centurión está presente personalmente. La afirmación final de que Jesús dijo al centurión: ‘Ve, y como creíste, te sea hecho’, donde la orden está en singular, es particularmente difícil de cuadrar con la solución agustiniana. Si el centurión estuviera en su casa enviando mensajeros a Jesús, no necesitaría ir a ninguna parte. Y si Jesús estuviera hablando con los mensajeros, no habría utilizado el singular.”[9] McGrew concluye, y yo me inclino a estar de acuerdo, que la explicación más sencilla de esta discrepancia es “una simple variación de memoria entre los testigos.”[10]

Un tercer caso es el aparente conflicto entre Juan 12:1 y Marcos 14:3, ya que Juan sitúa la unción en Betania seis días antes de la Pascua, mientras que Marcos parece situarla dos días antes de la Pascua. Juan da a entender que tuvo lugar poco después de la llegada de Jesús a Betania (antes de la entrada triunfal en Jerusalén), mientras que Marcos da a entender que tuvo lugar después de la entrada triunfal. Craig Blomberg propone que Marcos narra deliberadamente los acontecimientos a-cronológicamente por razones temáticas, ya que Jesús dice que la unción es para su entierro (Mc 14:8; Jn 12:7). Señala que “Marcos 14:3… está unido al versículo 2 simplemente por una kai (y) y pasa a describir un incidente que tiene lugar en algún momento no especificado mientras Jesús ‘estaba en Betania’. Una vez que observamos que tanto Marcos como Juan presentan a Jesús interpretando la unción como una preparación para su entierro, se puede entender por qué Marcos inserta el relato inmediatamente antes de una descripción de otros presagios de su muerte, incluyendo su última cena con los Doce.”[11] Otra idea, que también implica apelar a la narración a-cronológica, ha sido propuesta por el difunto Steve Hays, a saber, que Marcos pudo haber compuesto los versículos 14:1-2 y posteriormente interrumpir su escritura antes de volver a escribir sobre la unción en Betania como otro episodio ocurrido durante la semana de la Pasión (aunque sin intención de conectarlo con los versículos 1-2, que afirman que faltaban dos días para la Pascua).[12] Sin embargo, según la hipótesis de una narración cronológica, cabría esperar que Marcos proporcionara más información sobre lo que ocurrió el miércoles, antes de la discusión de la unción en Betania. En cambio, casi no hay narración en Marcos entre ese cuidadoso marcador cronológico y la unción en Betania. Todo lo que Marcos nos dice respecto a ese día es que “los jefes de los sacerdotes y los escribas buscaban la manera de prenderlo a escondidas y matarlo, pues decían: “buscaban cómo prenderle con engaño y matarle; porque decían: No durante la fiesta, no sea que haya un tumulto del pueblo” (Mc 14:1-2), pero Marcos ya ha indicado en el versículo 12:12 que “Y procuraban prenderle, pero temían a la multitud, porque comprendieron que contra ellos había dicho la parábola. Y dejándole, se fueron.” Lydia McGrew comenta[13],

Dado que Marcos introduce el día en el versículo 14:1, es de suponer que pretende narrar algunos acontecimientos sustanciales que sucedieron en ese día. ¿Por qué iba a hacer una referencia temporal tan explícita en el versículo 14:1, narrar sólo la decisión de los líderes judíos en ese día, interrumpir bruscamente para contar algo que había sucedido varios días antes, y luego volver en el versículo 10 a la narración de los acontecimientos del miércoles? Se trataría de un proceso de composición extremadamente entrecortado, casi como si ni siquiera hubiera leído lo que había escrito por última vez cuando empezó a narrar la cena en Betania. E incluso si ese fuera el caso, ¿por qué no tendría un mejor indicador de tiempo al volver al miércoles en el versículo 10? Marcos ha ido indicando los días en su narración de la Semana de la Pasión desde el domingo hasta el miércoles con bastante claridad (Marcos 11:11-12, 19-20, 13:1-3, 14.1). Sería sorprendente que de repente comenzara a narrar acronológicamente en el versículo 14:3, incluso como un artefacto de ruptura y reanudación de la escritura. Es mucho más sencillo considerar que la intención de Marcos es que todos los acontecimientos del principio del capítulo 14 ocurran el miércoles.

Un último ejemplo que voy a comentar aquí es el que considero la única discrepancia real entre los relatos de la natividad de Mateo y Lucas (tal vez trate otras supuestas discrepancias entre estos relatos, que me parecen poco convincentes, en un futuro artículo). Al parecer, Lucas desconoce la huida a Egipto que se relata en Mateo 2:13-15. Esto no sería un problema en sí mismo, ya que la omisión no es lo mismo que la negación, y Mateo y Lucas se basan evidentemente en fuentes diferentes (aunque complementarias). Sin embargo, Lucas 2:22-38 se refiere a la dedicación de Jesús en el templo y a la ceremonia de purificación. Cuando una mujer daba a luz un hijo, se la consideraba ceremonialmente impura durante cuarenta días (Lv 12:2-5). Después de este período, debía ofrecer un cordero de un año y una paloma o un pichón (Lev 12:6), aunque si era pobre podía ofrecer dos palomas o pichones (Lev 12:8). La ofrenda de María, por tanto, indica que ella y José eran pobres (Lc 2:24). Lucas 2:39 indica que “Habiendo ellos cumplido con todo conforme a la Ley del Señor, se volvieron a Galilea, a su ciudad de Nazaret.” El texto implica claramente que fue muy poco después de la purificación cuando volvieron a su casa, mientras que Mateo indica firmemente que la familia de Jesús permaneció en Belén durante un tiempo considerable después del nacimiento de Jesús y sólo volvió a Nazaret tras la huida a Egipto. ¿Se puede explicar esta aparente discrepancia? Personalmente, creo que la explicación que tiene más sentido es que las fuentes de Lucas (que pueden haber sido escritas, orales o una combinación de ambas) no contenían un relato de la venida de los magos, la matanza de los niños en Belén o la huida a Egipto. Creo que la principal fuente de Lucas para su relato de la natividad fue María. Es una conjetura razonable que María haya contado a Lucas la historia de Simeón y Ana en el templo (Lc 2:25-38) antes de pasar al siguiente relato diciendo algo así como “Y más tarde, cuando vivíamos en Nazaret, solíamos venir todos los años a Jerusalén a la fiesta de la Pascua”. Tal vez Lucas supuso de forma natural que habían regresado a Nazaret inmediatamente después de la presentación en el templo, y por ello escribió una transición que conectaba los dos relatos.

El problema de la disminución de las probabilidades

Un punto importante que a menudo se pasa por alto cuando se discuten las discrepancias evangélicas y los candidatos al error es el problema de la disminución de las probabilidades. Este problema tiene que ver con el hecho de que nunca tenemos la certeza absoluta de que un texto determinado no está equivocado, sino que se trata siempre de una evaluación probabilística que se basa en consideraciones tales como la fiabilidad general del texto en cuestión, los aspectos problemáticos del texto (como una aparente discrepancia con otras fuentes), las pruebas directas que influyen en la afirmación en cuestión, etc. Esto significa que si tenemos un conjunto de textos que tienen una probabilidad razonable de estar equivocados, la probabilidad de que todos los textos no contengan un error disminuye con los ejemplos sucesivos. Supongamos, por ejemplo, que tenemos un conjunto de cuatro aparentes discrepancias entre los relatos evangélicos (como he enumerado anteriormente). Supongamos hipotéticamente que cada uno de esos textos, considerado individualmente (teniendo en cuenta las armonizaciones propuestas y consideraciones como la fiabilidad general de los textos) tiene, por término medio, un 30% de probabilidades de contener un error. En ese caso, la probabilidad de que uno de ellos esté realmente en el error sería calculable por 1-0.74, que sería aproximadamente 0,76. Así pues, la demostración de que un texto individual tiene, en conjunto, más probabilidades de ser armonizable que de no serlo, no implica que no haya una alta probabilidad de que al menos algunos de esos textos estén de hecho en error.

El peso probatorio de las discrepancias aparentes y reales

Ya he escrito antes sobre el fenómeno de las variaciones conciliables, llamado así por el erudito anglicano del siglo XIX Thomas Rawson Birks.[14] Una variación conciliable se refiere a cuando existen dos relatos del mismo acontecimiento o, al menos, dos relatos que parecen cruzar el mismo territorio en algún punto y, a primera vista, parecen tan divergentes que resulta casi incómodo; pero luego, al reflexionar más, resultan ser conciliables de alguna manera natural después de todo. Cuando dos relatos parecen al principio tan divergentes que uno no está seguro de que puedan reconciliarse, eso es una prueba significativa de su independencia. Cuando, tras un examen más detallado o al conocer más información, resultan ser conciliables sin forzarlas, es casi seguro que se trata de relatos independientes que encajan. Las discrepancias reales entre los relatos, como las que he comentado anteriormente, también tienden a apoyar la independencia de los relatos. Por lo tanto, se podría decir que las discrepancias reales entre los relatos evangélicos tienen múltiples vectores epistémicos: son negativamente relevantes desde el punto de vista epistémico para la fiabilidad de los relatos y, al mismo tiempo, apoyan la independencia de las narraciones en sentido más amplio (y los relatos independientes que se solapan en relación con un acontecimiento constituyen una prueba de su verdad).

En alguna ocasión me han preguntado si, de forma similar al caso acumulativo que yo construiría para la fiabilidad sustancial de los evangelios y Hechos (a partir de coincidencias no diseñadas entre otras líneas de evidencia), se podría construir un caso acumulativo para su falta de fiabilidad a partir de las contradicciones entre los relatos evangélicos. Sin embargo, aparte del hecho de que las pruebas positivas son mucho más numerosas que el tipo de discrepancias que he documentado anteriormente, yo diría que existe una asimetría epistémica entre estas pruebas positivas y las negativas, es decir, las pruebas positivas que yo y otros hemos aducido (como las coincidencias no diseñadas) tienen una mayor fuerza probatoria que las aparentes discrepancias que existen entre los relatos evangélicos. Para ver si (y hasta qué punto) X cuenta como evidencia de H, hay que saber cómo se compara nuestra expectativa de X cuando H es verdadera con nuestra expectativa de X cuando H es falsa. Una vez que calibramos así nuestras expectativas, la apariencia de un paralelismo en los dos argumentos se evapora.

Tim McGrew y Lydia McGrew señalan varios casos en los que las fuentes antiguas, consideradas generalmente fiables, presentan varias discrepancias menores[15]:

Incluso un conocimiento superficial de los documentos que forman la base de la historia secular revela que los informes de los historiadores fiables, incluso de los testigos oculares, siempre muestran una selección y un énfasis y no pocas veces se contradicen abiertamente. Sin embargo, este hecho no destruye, ni siquiera socava significativamente, su credibilidad respecto a los principales acontecimientos que relatan. Casi ninguno de los dos autores está de acuerdo en el número de tropas que reunió Jerjes para su invasión de Grecia, pero la invasión y su desastroso resultado no están en duda. El relato de Floro sobre el número de tropas en la batalla de Farsalia difiere del propio relato de César en 150.000 hombres; pero nadie duda de que hubo tal batalla, ni de que César la ganó. Según Josefo, la embajada de los judíos al emperador Claudio tuvo lugar en el tiempo de la siembra, mientras que Filón la sitúa en el tiempo de la cosecha; pero que hubo tal embajada es incontrovertible. Los ejemplos de este tipo se pueden multiplicar casi de forma interminable.

Dado que la hipótesis de que un conjunto de documentos históricos es sustancialmente fiable predice que habrá pequeñas variaciones entre los relatos (como se observa cuando examinamos otros documentos que generalmente se consideran sustancialmente fiables), la observación de que efectivamente existen pequeñas variaciones entre dichos relatos no puede utilizarse como prueba significativa contra la fiabilidad de los mismos. El eminente jurista Thomas Starkie explica bien este punto[16]:

Es necesario observar aquí que las variaciones parciales en el testimonio de diferentes testigos, en puntos minúsculos y colaterales, aunque con frecuencia ofrecen al defensor adverso un tema para la observación copiosa, son de poca importancia, a menos que sean de una naturaleza demasiado prominente y llamativa para ser atribuida a la mera inadvertencia, falta de atención o defecto de memoria. Un gran observador ha señalado que “el carácter habitual del testimonio humano es la verdad sustancial bajo una variedad circunstancial”. Es tan raro que los testigos de una misma transacción coincidan perfecta y totalmente en todos los puntos relacionados con ella, que una coincidencia total y completa en cada detalle, lejos de reforzar su crédito, no pocas veces engendra una sospecha de práctica y concertación. La verdadera cuestión debe ser siempre, si los puntos de variación y discrepancia son de una naturaleza tan fuerte y decisiva como para hacer imposible, o al menos difícil, atribuirlos a las fuentes ordinarias de tales variedades, la falta de atención o de memoria.

El mismo principio puede aplicarse a los relatos evangélicos. Aunque los evangelios contengan algunas discrepancias menores en cuanto a detalles periféricos, de ello no se deduce que los relatos sean generalmente poco fiables, ya que conocemos muchos relatos fiables que contienen discrepancias.

Conclusión

A veces me han preguntado si afirmo la doctrina de la inerrancia, y me temo que mi respuesta requiere más matices que un simple “sí” o “no”. Ambas respuestas invitan a ciertas suposiciones sobre mis puntos de vista que deben ser desenredadas y aclaradas. Si uno responde “sí”, el interrogador puede suponer que el enfoque erudito que uno tiene de la Biblia no le permite concluir, sobre la base de pruebas, la existencia de errores en las Escrituras. No es difícil ver cómo ese enfoque iría en contra del espíritu de una sólida epistemología evidencialista. Por otra parte, si se responde “no”, el interrogador puede suponer que se tiene un enfoque liberal de la Biblia y que se considera que no es fiable, o que se acepta una corriente de pensamiento, popular en la erudición contemporánea, que condena el proyecto de armonización cuando hay aparentes discrepancias en las Escrituras. Yo no me inclino por ninguno de esos dos extremos, y en este artículo expongo los matices de una aproximación a la Biblia que mantiene una visión elevada de las Escrituras, pero que no se aferra a la inerrancia tal y como se entiende tradicionalmente. Aunque técnicamente no me calificaría como inerrantista según las normas de la Declaración de Chicago, mi punto de vista se acerca mucho más al de la mayoría de los inerrantistas que al de la mayoría de los no inerrantistas. Es decir, tengo una visión elevada de las Escrituras y afirmo que las Escrituras, tanto el Antiguo como el Nuevo Testamento, son muy fiables.

Referencias

[1] Norman L. Geisler, Systematic Theology, Volume One: Introduction, Bible (Minneapolis, MN: Bethany House Publishers, 2002), 264–265.

[2] Para un debate sobre cómo se evalúan los datos anómalos en la ciencia, véase “The Role of Anomalous Data in Knowledge Acquisition: A Theoretical Framework and Implications for Science Instruction,” de Clark A. Chinn and William F. Brewer, Review of Educational Research 63, no. 1 (Spring, 1993), 1-49, y “Scientists’ Responses to Anomalous Data: Evidence from Psychology, History, and Philosophy of Science” de William F. Brewer and Clark A. Chinn, Proceedings of the Biennial Meeting of the Philosophy of Science Association, Volume One: Contributed Papers (1994), 304-313.

[3] Bruce Manning Metzger, United Bible Societies, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, Second Edition a Companion Volume to the United Bible Societies’ Greek New Testament (4th Rev. Ed.) (London; New York: United Bible Societies, 1994), 154.

[4] Michael Licona, Why Are There Differences in the Gospels? (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016).

[5] Lydia McGrew, The Mirror or the Mask: Liberating the Gospels from Literary Devices (Tampa, FL: Deward Publishing Company, Ltd, 2019).

[6] Ibid., 53-54.

[7] Jerry Fodor y Massimo Piattelli-Palmarini, What Darwin Got Wrong (London: Profile Books, 2011), kindle.

[8] Matthew Wilkins, “Matthew,” en The Holman Apologetics Commentary on the Bible — The Gospels and Acts, ed. Jeremy Royal Howard (Nashville, TN: Holman Reference, 2013), 99.

[9] Lydia McGrew, The Mirror or the Mask: Liberating the Gospels from Literary Devices (Tampa, FL: Deward Publishing Company, Ltd, 2019), 379-380.

[10] Ibid., 380.

[11] Craig L. Blomberg, The Historical Reliability of John’s Gospel (England: Apollos, 2001), 175.

[12] Steve Hays, “Projecting Contradictions, Triablogue, January 11, 2018, http://triablogue.blogspot.com/2018/01/projecting-contradictions.html

[13] Lydia McGrew, The Mirror or the Mask: Liberating the Gospels from Literary Devices (Tampa, FL: Deward Publishing Company, Ltd, 2019), 391.

[14] Thomas Rawson Birks, Horae Evangelicae, or The Internal Evidence of the Gospel History (London: Seeleys, 1852). Véase también Lydia McGrew, The Mirror or the Mask: Liberating the Gospels from Literary Devices (Tampa, FL: Deward Publishing Company, Ltd, 2019), 316–321.

[15] Tim McGrew y Lydia McGrew, “The Argument from Miracles: A Cumulative Case for the Resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth”, en The Blackwell Companion to Natural Theology, 1st Edition, ed. William Lane Craig and J.P. Moreland (Wiley-Blackwell, 2012), kindle.

[16] Thomas Starkie, A Practical Treatise of the Law of Evidence, and Digest of Proofs, in Civil and Criminal Proceedings, Volume 1 (J & W.T. Clarke, 1833), 488-489.

Recursos recomendados en Español:

Robándole a Dios (tapa blanda), (Guía de estudio para el profesor) y (Guía de estudio del estudiante) por el Dr. Frank Turek

Por qué no tengo suficiente fe para ser un ateo (serie de DVD completa), (Manual de trabajo del profesor) y (Manual del estudiante) del Dr. Frank Turek

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El Dr. Jonathan McLatchie es un escritor cristiano, orador internacional y debatiente. Tiene una licenciatura (con honores) en biología forense, un máster (M.Res) en biología evolutiva, un segundo máster en biociencia médica y molecular, y un doctorado en biología evolutiva. En la actualidad, es profesor adjunto de biología en el Sattler College de Boston (Massachusetts). El Dr. McLatchie colabora en varios sitios web de apologética y es el fundador de Apologetics Academy (Apologetics-Academy.org), un ministerio que trata de equipar y formar a los cristianos para que defiendan la fe de forma persuasiva mediante seminarios web regulares, así como ayudar a los cristianos que se enfrentan a las dudas. El Dr. McLatchie ha participado en más de treinta debates moderados en todo el mundo con representantes del ateísmo, el islam y otras perspectivas alternativas de cosmovisión. Ha dado conferencias a nivel internacional en Europa, Norteamérica y Sudáfrica promoviendo una fe cristiana inteligente, reflexiva y basada en la evidencia.

Fuente del blog original: https://cutt.ly/6zxWCsO

Traducido por Elenita Romero

Editado por Jennifer Chavez

 

Are you a Christian who is struggling with doubts about your faith? A non-Christian seeker who has sincere questions about the Christian faith? Or have you recently lost your faith and want to explore whether your reasons for loss-of-faith were really rational? Have you ever wished that you could jump on a Zoom call and talk 1-on-1 with a leading Christian scholar who could help you navigate the minefield of arguments for and against Christianity, and help you think about your questions and doubts honestly and critically? This is now no longer something you need to wish for. This month, I launched a new ministry, TalkAboutDoubts.com. I have assembled a team of Christian scholars (some of whom are among the leaders in the world in their fields) who are willing to take one-on-one calls with people with sincere doubts about Christianity. Simply visit the website and fill out the submission form. Your inquiry will be automatically sent to the scholar with expertise most relevant to the subject of your doubts. They will then get in touch directly with you to schedule a live 1-on-1 Zoom call to discuss your doubts and questions in confidence. There is absolutely nothing for you to lose: Even if you still remain unpersuaded, at least you will be able to say that you gave the best arguments for Christianity a fair shake. If you have no need of this service yourself, please consider sharing it on social media or with your anyone in your life who may benefit from this resource. Here is a short interview I did with Tim Hull (of “Dealing with Deconstruction”) on this exciting new project.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

When Reason Isn’t the Reason for Unbelief by Dr. Frank Turek DVD and Mp4

Counter Culture Christian: Is There Truth in Religion? (DVD) by Frank Turek

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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.

 

I have been publishing a series of articles on how best to interpret the early chapters of Genesis and how science can illuminate biblical texts and guide our hermeneutics.

In this article, I will explore the text of the first chapter of Scripture, Genesis 1, with a view to determining whether this text commits to a young-Earth interpretation of origins or, at least, the extent to which the text tends to support such a view, if at all.

It is common for young-earth creationists to assume that if a young-earth interpretation of the text can be shown to be the most valuable or simplest hermeneutical approach, then this is the view one should prefer, and therefore the scientific evidence should be shoehorned into a young-earth mold. However, as I have argued in previous articles, this does not necessarily follow, since we have to deal not only with special revelation, but also with general revelation. In view of the independent considerations that justify the belief that Genesis is inspired Scripture and those that compel us to affirm an ancient earth and cosmos, interpretations that result in harmony between science and Scripture should be preferred over those that put them in conflict. Charles Hodge (1797-1878), a conservative 19th-century Presbyterian, put it this way [1] :

It is admitted, of course, that taking the [Genesis creation] account by itself, the most natural thing would be to understand the word [“day”] in its ordinary sense; but if that sense brings the Mosaic account into conflict with the facts, and another sense avoids that conflict, then it is obligatory to adopt that other sense….The Church has been forced more than once to modify her interpretation of the Bible to accommodate the discoveries of science. But this has been done without doing violence to the Scriptures or in any way undermining their authority.

As I have argued before, ad hoc auxiliary hypotheses regarding either science or Scripture can reasonably be invoked only if the overall evidence for Christianity is sufficient to support it. In my view, the evidence for Christianity, strong as it is, is insufficient to support the weight of a young-Earth interpretation of cosmic and geological history. However, I believe it is sufficient to support the weight of an old-Earth interpretation of Scripture (though I realize that a certain level of subjectivity is necessary in making this assessment). Therefore, if the text of Scripture compels one to subscribe to a young-Earth view, then the hypothesis that Scripture is wrong should be preferred to concluding that the Earth and cosmos are, in fact, young (i.e., on the order of thousands of years). However, before reaching such a conclusion, alternative interpretive approaches that do not entail a manifestly false implication should be fairly evaluated.

An important consideration in evaluating harmonizations, and one that is often overlooked, is that the evidentiary weight of a proposed error or contradiction in Scripture relates not so much to the probability of any one proposed harmonization, but rather to the disjunction of the probabilities associated with each candidate harmonization. To take a simplistic example, if one has four harmonizations that each have a 10% chance of being correct, then the evidentiary weight of the issue is significantly lower than if one had only one of them, since the disjunction of the relevant probabilities would be 40%. Thus, the text would be only slightly more erroneous than null (and inductive arguments for substantial reliability may tip the balance in favor of giving the author the benefit of the doubt). In reality, of course, the mathematics is rather more complicated than this, since one must take into account whether any of the harmonisations overlap or imply each other in such a way that the probabilities cannot be added to one another. This principle can be applied to our analysis of the text of Genesis 1 – the disjunction of the various interpretations that can be offered reduces the probative value of those texts’ case against the reliability of the text. Of course, if some of the disjuncts have a very low probability of being correct, then they will not be of much help.

If the biblical text were found to be in error, then the ramifications of that discovery would need to be explored. Admittedly, a demonstration of the falsity of inerrancy would constitute evidence against inspiration and in turn against Christianity, since there is admittedly a certain impulse toward inerrancy if a book is held to be divinely inspired in any significant sense, although I am not convinced that inspiration necessarily implies inerrancy, depending on which model of inspiration is adopted (perhaps a topic for a future article). However, since inerrancy is an “all or nothing” proposition, once a single error (and thus falsified inerrancy) has been admitted, the evidentiary weight against Christianity of subsequent demonstrations of similar types of errors is substantially reduced. Some of the proposed errors would be more consequential than others. Some errors (such as the long-life reports discussed in my previous article) would affect only the doctrine of inerrancy (as well as being epistemically relevant to the substantial reliability of particular biblical books), while others (such as the nonexistence of a robust historical Adam), being inextricably linked to other central propositions of Christianity, would be far more serious. Another factor that influences the epistemic consequence of scriptural errors is the source of those errors. For example, deliberate distortions of the facts have a far greater negative effect on both the doctrine that the book is inspired and the substantial reliability of the document than errors introduced in good faith.

Did God create a mature universe?

A common mistake made by proponents of young-Earth creationism is to assume that if evidence can be interpreted in a way that is consistent with one interpretation of young-Earth cosmic and geologic history, then that evidence does not support an old-Earth view and therefore should not concern them. However, this is quite wrong. Evidence can tend to confirm a hypothesis even if it can be interpreted consistently with an alternative view. To count as confirmatory evidence, the hypothesis in question only needs to be more likely to be true than false. The more such evidence has to be reinterpreted to align with the young-Earth view, the more ad hoc and therefore implausible the young-Earth origins model becomes.

One attempt to salvage young-earth creationism that I often encounter from secular creationists (though less frequently from academics) is to posit that the earth and universe were created already mature, similar to Christ’s transformation of water into mature wine (John 2:1-11). To many, this positing has the appeal of allowing evidence of vast age to be dismissed as saying nothing about the actual age of the earth, much as Adam, having been created mature, would appear to be much older than he really was. However, this explanation will not work because the geological record seems to tell a story of historical events, including the existence of the death of animals long before man, something that young-earth interpretations of Scripture typically exclude (though I find no compelling biblical arguments for this).

Furthermore, there is a remarkable correlation between the dates given by radiometric dating methods and the types of organisms found in the strata. For example, if you were to give a paleontologist a date given by radiometric dating techniques (say, for example, a rock dated to the Cambrian Period), he could predict, with precision, what organisms you might expect to be preserved in rocks dated to that age, as well as what you might not expect to find—regardless of where in the world they were identified. This remarkable correlation is quite unexpected in an interpretation of the geologic history of the young Earth, but entirely unsurprising in an interpretation of the ancient Earth.

Our observation of distant galaxies, often millions of light years from Earth (meaning that the light leaving those stars takes millions of years to be observed by an observer on Earth), is also something quite expected in an old Earth interpretation, but quite surprising in a young Earth interpretation. The claim that light is created in transit will not help here, since we are able to observe events in deep space (such as supernovae) that, from that point of view, would be merely illusory (since the light would never have actually left those events in the first place). This would mean that much of our stellar observations are illusory, an implication that I find very problematic. While one can try to posit complex ad hoc rationalizations for light from distant stars, as some have done, it should still be recognized as much less surprising in an old Earth view than in a young Earth view, and therefore the evidence confirms the old Earth view.

Another major difficulty is the need to postulate that all meteorite impacts with the earth have taken place within the last six thousand years, including the one that caused the meteorite crater in the Gulf of Mexico, thought to have caused the extinction of the dinosaurs, 65 million years ago, as well as the meteorite that caused the Vredefort Dome, thought to be the largest impact crater in the world, located in Potchefstroom, South Africa. The latter is thought to have taken place over two billion years ago. If any of those impacts had occurred within the last six thousand years (as young Earth creationism demands), the effect on human civilization and animal life worldwide would have been devastating, and yet there is no evidence that such impacts have occurred in recorded history. Although some geologists have historically held that the Vredefort Dome is the result of a volcanic event, this is a minority view that is not widely accepted today. The consensus view is that this is a meteorite impact zone, and several lines of evidence support this, including evidence of shock on quartz grains and evidence of rapid melting of the granite into glass.

This is just the beginning of the scientific challenges to young-Earth creationism. Taken together, the numerous lines of evidence that point convergently in the direction of an old earth and cosmos are quite overwhelming. While I could talk for some time about the scientific challenges to young-Earth creationism (perhaps a topic for a future article), the main purpose of this article is to assess to what extent, if any, the Genesis text inclines us toward a young-Earth interpretation of cosmic and terrestrial history. To this I turn now.

Can the days of creation be interpreted as literal and consecutive while rejecting young earth creationism?

Before addressing the question of whether the “days” of the creation week are best understood as literal and consecutive, I will first assess whether it is possible to take the “days” as literal and consecutive while rejecting the implication of young-earth creationism. There are two major schools of thought that answer this question in the affirmative, so I will offer a brief analysis of these approaches here.

In 1996, John Sailhamer proposed the view (which he calls “historical creationism”) that while Genesis 1:1 describes the creation of the universe, Genesis 1:2–2:4 describes a one-week period (i.e., seven solar days) during which the promised land was prepared and human beings were created therein. [2] Sailhamer’s book has some notable endorsements, including John Piper [3] , Mark Driscoll [4] , and Matt Chandler [5] .

Sailhamer argues that the meaning of “earth” in verse 1 is different from the meaning in verse 2. He argues that in verse 1, its connection to the word “heavens” indicates that it is being used to refer to the cosmos. According to him, “When these two terms [heaven and earth] are used together as a figure of speech, they take on a distinct meaning on their own. Together, they mean much more than the sum of the meanings of the two individual words.” [6] When these words are used together, Sailhamer argues, “they form a figure of speech called a ‘merism.’ A merism combines two words to express a single idea. A merism expresses “wholeness” by combining two contrasts or two extremes.” [7] Sailhamer uses the example of David’s claim that God knows the way he sits and rises . [8] This claim expresses the fact that God has exhaustive knowledge of everything he does (Ps 139). Thus, Sailhamer concludes, “the concept of ‘all’ is expressed by combining the two opposites ‘my sitting down’ and ‘my rising up.'” [9] Sailhamer draws the parallel between this and the reference to heaven and earth in Genesis 1:1. He notes that “by uniting these two extremes in a single expression – ‘heaven and earth’ or ‘heavens and earth’ – the Hebrew language expresses the totality of all that exists. Unlike English, Hebrew does not have a single word to express the concept of ‘the universe’; it must do so by a merism. The expression ‘heaven and earth’ thus represents the ‘totality of the universe.'” [10] Sailhamer argues (correctly in my view) that Genesis 1:1 is not, as some have suggested, a title or summary of the chapter, but refers to a distinct divine act that took place before the six days described in the remainder of the chapter . [11]

If Genesis 1:1 alone describes the creation of the universe, what is the rest of the chapter about? Sailhamer suggests that it describes God preparing the promised land for human occupation. He points out, correctly, that the Hebrew word אֶ֫רֶץ (“eretz”) generally refers to a localized region of the planet, rather than the Earth as a whole, so it is quite legitimate to translate the word as “land” rather than “Earth.” For example, the very word “land” is contrasted in Genesis 1:10 with the seas. Sailhamer notes that “‘seas’ do not cover the ‘land,’ as would be the case if the term meant ‘Earth.’ Rather the ‘seas’ lie adjacent to and within the ‘land’ . ” [12]

Sailhamer argues that the expression תֹ֙הוּ֙ וָבֹ֔הוּ (“tohu wabohu”) is best translated not as “formless and void” (suggesting that the earth was a formless mass) but as “desert,” which he argues sets the stage for God to make the earth habitable for mankind.

One concern I have about Sailhamer’s thesis is that while it is true that the phrase “the heavens and the earth” is a merism referring to the entire universe, this merism appears not only in Genesis 1:1, but also in 2:1, which says “So the heavens and the earth were finished, and all their host.” This verse seems to indicate that the entirety of Genesis 1 refers to the heavens and the earth, that is, to the universe as a whole, and not just to a localized region of the earth. The Sabbath command also refers to God making in six days “the heaven and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them” (Exodus 20:11). This also seems to strongly suggest that the perspective of Genesis 1 is global rather than local. Another problem is that it seems quite unlikely that the word “Earth” refers in Genesis 1 to any specific “land,” since “Earth” is contrasted with the seas (Gen 1:10). Furthermore, the waters of the fifth day are populated by the great sea creatures (Gen 1:21), indicating that it refers to the oceans.

A more recent attempt to harmonize an interpretation of the days of creation that takes them to be literal and consecutive, known as the cosmic temple view, has been proposed by Old Testament scholar John Walton of Wheaton College. [13] Walton interprets the days of creation as a chronological sequence of twenty-four-hour days. However, he writes that these days “are not given as the period of time during which the material cosmos came into existence, but rather the period of time devoted to the inauguration of the functions of the cosmic temple, and perhaps also its annual re-creation . ” [14]

Walton argues that Genesis 1 is not concerned with material origins at all. Instead, he claims that the text is concerned with the assignment of functions. Walton argues that, during the days of the creation week, which he takes to be regular solar days, God was “establishing functions” [15] and “installing his functionaries” [16] for the created order. Walton admits that “theoretically it could be both. But to assume that we simply must have a material account if we are to say anything meaningful is cultural imperialism.” [17] Walton argues that the thesis he proposes “is not a view that has been rejected by other scholars; it is simply one that they have never considered because its material ontology was a blind presupposition to which no alternative was ever considered.” [18] However, as philosopher John Lennox rightly notes, “Surely, if ancient readers thought only in functional terms, the literature would be full of it, and scholars would be well aware of it?” [19 ]

Furthermore, it is not clear what exactly is involved in God assigning functions to the sun and moon, and to land and sea creatures, if, as Walton argues, this has nothing to do with material origins. Analytic philosopher Lydia McGrew also notes that [20] ,

…it is difficult to understand what Walton means by God establishing functions and installing officials in a sense that has nothing to do with material origins! Perhaps the most charitable thing to do would be to throw up one’s hands and conclude that the book is radically confusing. What could it mean that all the plants were already growing, providing food for animals, the sun was shining, etc., but that these entities were nonetheless functionless prior to a specific set of 24-hour days in a specific week?

What would the creation week have been like from the point of view of an earthly observer? According to Walton, “The observer in Genesis 1 would see day by day that everything was ready to do for people everything it had been designed to do. It would be like visiting a campus just before the students were ready to arrive, to see all the preparations that had been made and how everything had been designed, organized, and built to serve the students.” [21] Furthermore, Walton asserts, the “major elements missing from the ‘before’ picture are therefore humanity in the image of God and the presence of God in his cosmic temple . ” [22]

Walton claims that in the ancient worldview it was possible for something to exist materially but not to exist functionally. He claims that “people in the ancient world believed that something existed not in virtue of its material properties but in virtue of its function in an ordered system. Here I am not referring to an ordered system in scientific terms, but to an ordered system in human terms, that is, in relation to society and culture.” [23] Walton places much emphasis on the meaning of the Hebrew verb בָּרָ֣א (“bara”), meaning “to create.” He gives a list of words that form objects of the verb בָּרָ֣א and claims that the “grammatical objects of the verb are not easily identifiable in material terms.” [24] Walton lists the purpose or function assigned to each of the created entities. He then attempts to suggest that “a large percentage of contexts require a functional understanding.” [25] This, however, does not preclude a material understanding. Even stranger is Walton’s claim that “this list shows that the grammatical objects of the verb are not easily identified in material terms, and even when they are, it is questionable whether the context reifies them.” [26] However, the chart Walton presents lists objects of the verb that are material entities—including people, creatures, a cloud of smoke, rivers, the starry host, and so on. It is true that not all of these uses of the verb בָּרָ֣א refer to special creation de novo . For example, the creation of Israel (Isaiah 43:15) was not a special material creation de novo by divine decree. However, even our verbs “create” and “make” can have this flexibility of meaning, and their precise usage can be discerned from context. If I say I am going to create a new business, I do not mean that I am going to create employees and office space de novo . Similarly, when the psalmist calls upon God to “create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me” (Ps 51:10), although “create” is not used here in a material sense, the gender is clearly poetic, so one must be careful in extrapolating the meaning from a metaphorical use of the word to its ordinary usage. A further problem with Walton’s interpretation of the verb בָּרָ֣א as having only a functional interest in Genesis 1 is the fact that, as C. John Collins has pointed out, “1:26–31 are parallel to 2:4–25; this means that the ‘forming of man from dust’ (2:7), and the ‘building’ of woman from man’s rib (2:22), are parallel descriptions of the ‘creation’ of the first human of 1:27. Hence it makes sense to read 1:26–31 as if it were of only functional interest in Genesis 1.”27 as a description of a material operation” [27] .

Michael Jones, a popular Christian apologist on YouTube, has in recent years defended Walton’s thesis. To Walton’s arguments in support of his claim that Genesis 1 does not refer to material origins, Jones adds a very strange argument [28] : he quotes Jeremiah 4:23-26, which says of Israel

23. I looked at the earth, and behold, it was formless and void, and the heavens were without light . 24. I looked at the mountains, and behold, they trembled, and all the hills quaked. 25. I looked, and behold, there was no man, and all the birds of the air had fled. 26. I looked, and behold, the fruitful land was a wilderness, and all its cities were laid waste before the LORD, before his fierce anger.

Jones comments [29] ,

If Genesis 1 is about the material creation of all things, we should expect the same language in reverse to be the disintegration of the materials being spoken of. However, when Assyria conquered Israel and deported all the elites, we are not suggesting that the fabric of space/time was torn open and the land of Israel disappeared. Rather, we understand that the kingdom went from a functioning, productive society to a chaotic land. The sunlight did not literally stop shining in that region. It was just part of the cultural expression to say that the kingdom went from an ordered society to disorder. And so the reverse in Genesis 1 would only suggest that God took a disordered chaos and ordered it to be a functioning temple for himself and the humans in it, not the beginning of all matter as we know it.

Although Michael Jones has a brilliant mind and has made very welcome contributions to the field of apologetics, this interpretation reflects a total disregard for Jeremiah’s rhetoric. The prophet is using a representation as if the sun had gone out, and “there was no man, and all the birds of the air had fled.” He is not making an ontological claim.

Furthermore, the arguments Walton adduces in support of his claim that in the ancient worldview it was possible for something to exist materially but not exist functionally seem to me to be very weak, and even seem to undermine his position. Walton, for example, claims that in Hittite literature there is a creation myth which speaks of “cutting up heaven and earth with a copper cutting tool.” [30] He also cites the Egyptian Insinger Papyrus which states concerning the god: “He created food before those who are living, the wonder of the fields. He created the constellation of those in heaven, for those on earth to learn of. He created in it the sweet water which all lands desire.” [31] Walton also says that the Babylonian creation epic, Enuma Elish , has Maduk “harnessing the waters of Tiamat in order to provide the basis for agriculture.” It includes the piling up of earth, the freeing of the Tigris and Euphrates, and the digging of wells to handle the water catchment.” [32] It is not clear to me, however, how these texts support Walton’s thesis. No argument is offered as to why the ancients did not believe that the gods physically separated the heavens from the earth. The fact that we as modern readers take at face value the reading of these texts as manifestly false does not mean that an ancient audience necessarily would have done so. Nor does Walton offer any argument to support the conclusion that the author or audience of the Tigris and Euphrates text did not interpret the text to say that Marduk physically freed the rivers and built the wells to handle the water catchment.

Another key issue here is that there is no reason to believe that functional assignment and concern for material origins are mutually exclusive. It is not logical to think that since the word בָּרָ֣א is often associated with a mention of functional assignment, it does not have any connotations about material origins. Functional assignment and material origins go hand in hand, as material design is what enables an entity to perform its function.

Having rejected interpretations that propose to harmonize an old earth view with an interpretation of the creation week as a series of six consecutive solar days, we must now address the question of which interpretive paradigm best makes sense of the text of Genesis 1, and it is to this question that I now turn.

In the Beginning

In Genesis 1:1-3, we read,

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. 2 The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the waters. 3 Then God said, “Let there be light.” And there was light .

It has often been pointed out that verse 3 marks the first occurrence of the phrase “And God said…”. This expression is used to denote the beginning of each of the six days of creation week (vv. 3, 6, 9, 14, 20, 24). Therefore, it can be argued that the first day of creation week actually begins in verse 3, not verse 1. Therefore, by the time the first day of creation week is reached, the heavens and the earth are already in existence. Therefore, regardless of what one thinks about the age of the biosphere (a separate discussion), Scripture is completely silent on the age of the Universe and the Earth – even if the days of creation week are taken as literal and consecutive. Furthermore, when God says “let there be light” (Gen 1:3), marking the beginning of the first “day” of the creation week, this can be understood as God calling forth the dawning of the first day, since the expression “let there be…” does not necessarily indicate that something has come into existence – for example, the psalmist says ” let your mercy, O Lord, be upon us” (Ps 33:22), which does not imply that God’s mercy had not been with them before.

This argument is not without objection. For example, some authors view verse 1 as a summary of the entire narrative, rather than describing an event that took place some indeterminate time before the first day of the creation week . [33] However, Hebrew scholar C. John Collins points out that this interpretation is less likely, since “the verb created in Genesis 1:1 is in the past perfect, and the normal use of the past perfect at the beginning of a pericope is to denote an event that took place before the narrative gets going.” [34] John Sailhamer also adduces some reasons that make it more likely that Genesis 1:1 describes an event that occurred before the creation week, rather than being a summary title . [35] First, Genesis 1:1 is a complete sentence and makes a statement, which is not how titles are formed in Hebrew. For example, Genesis 5:1 serves as a heading for the verses that follow, and reads, “This is the book of the generations of Adam.” Second, verse 2 begins with the conjunction “and.” This, however, is surprising if Genesis 1:1 is intended to be a summary heading for the entire chapter. Sailhamer notes that if 1:1 were a summary heading, “the section that follows it would not begin with the conjunction ‘and.'” [36] Third, there is a summary statement of chapter 1 found at its conclusion, in 2:1, which would make a summary heading at the beginning of the chapter redundant. It seems highly unlikely that the account would have two summary headings.

Perhaps the strongest argument for understanding Genesis 1:1 as a summary title for the entire passage has been put forward by Bruce Waltke. [37] He argues that the combination “the heavens and the earth” is a merism referring to “the organized universe, the cosmos.” [38] He argues that “this compound never has the meaning of disordered chaos, but always of an ordered world.” [39] He further argues that “disorder, darkness, and depth” suggest “a situation not tolerated in the perfect cosmos and are never said to have been called into existence by the word of God.” [40] However, C. John Collins responds to this argument by pointing out that the expression “formless and void” (Gen. 1:2) is not a phrase referring to “disordered chaos,” but rather describes the earth as “an unproductive and uninhabited place.” [41] And he notes that “there is no indication that the ‘deep’ is any kind of opponent to God; in fact, throughout the rest of the Bible it does God’s bidding and praises Him (cf. Gen. 7:11; 8:1; 49:25; Ps. 33:7; 104:6; 135:6; 148:7; Prov. 3:20; 8:28). And since God names the darkness (Gen. 1:5), there is no reason to believe that it opposes His will either . ” [42]

In any case, although there is an ongoing scholarly debate between those opposing interpretations, the reading of Genesis 1:1 as describing events taking place before the creation week is at the very least plausible, if not the most favorable as the most likely meaning. Thus, there is certainly no room for dogmatism that Genesis 1 commits us to a young Universe or Earth, regardless of what one thinks about the age of the biosphere (which will relate to how one understands the “days” of the creation week).

Some scholars argue that Genesis 1:1 should be translated as follows: “When God began to create the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void…” [43] This reading would be consistent with Genesis 1 not referring to the special creation of the Universe out of nothing, but to bringing order and organization to a chaotic, formless void. However, C. John Collins claims that “the simplest rendering of the Hebrew we have is the conventional one (which is how the ancient Greek and Latin versions took it).” [44] The main argument for this alternative translation is the lack of a definite article in the opening words. The text we have reads בְּרֵאשִׁית (“bere’shit”), while proponents of the translation in question would argue that the traditional rendering would make more sense if it read בָּרֵאשִׁית (“bare’shit”). However, as C. John Collins notes, “Since we have no evidence that any ancient author found this to be a problem, the conventional reading stands.” [45] This is also a matter of ongoing scholarly debate. Even if the alternative reading is correct, however, we would not lose anything, since many other biblical texts indicate that the Universe is temporally finite, and that God brought it into existence ex nihilo .

Are the “days” of Genesis 1 literal?

The debate over the interpretation of Genesis 1 has tended to focus on the correct translation of the Hebrew word יוֹם (“yom”). Perhaps the best-known representative of the old-earth position is Hugh Ross of Reasons to Believe, although I often find his interpretations somewhat forced and far-fetched. Hugh Ross notes that “the Hebrew word yom, translated ‘day,’ is used in biblical Hebrew (as in modern English) to indicate any of four periods of time: (a) some portion of daylight (hours); (b) from sunrise to sunset; (c) from sunset to sunset; or (d) a segment of time without any reference to solar days (from weeks to a year to several years to an age or epoch.” [46] This is correct, but, as in modern English, context allows the reader to discern which of these literal meanings is at play.

In Genesis 2:4, we read,

These are the origins of the heavens and the earth when they were created, in the day that the LORD God made the earth and the heavens .

Here, the Hebrew word יוֹם refers to an indefinite but finite period of time, corresponding to definition (d) offered by Hugh Ross above. However, the context makes it apparent that this is the reading under consideration. In English, we also use expressions like “in those days” to refer to an indefinite but finite period of time, and there is no ambiguity about whether it refers to a literal day or a longer period of time. Likewise, we could say “the day was about to end,” and that would make it clear that the word “day” is to be understood as referring to daylight hours, corresponding to definition (a) of Ross’s literal set of meanings. Young-Earth creationists often respond to Ross’s proposed translation, rightly in my view, by observing that the use of the words “evening” and “morning,” combined with an ordinal number, in referring to the days of the creation week, makes it clear that a solar day is meant, whether 12 or 24 hours long. [47] What is often overlooked, however, is that settling the question of the translation of the word יוֹם does not in itself indicate whether it is intended to be understood literally or figuratively. Nor does it indicate whether the days are strictly consecutive, or whether there may be gaps between each of them. These are questions logically arising from the issue of translation and must be addressed separately.

Is there any instance in Scripture where the word יוֹם is clearly translated as “day” in the usual sense and yet is not meant to be understood literally? Indeed, it is. In Hosea 6:2, we read,

Come, let us return to the LORD. For He has torn us, and He will heal us; He has wounded us, and He will bind us up. 2. After two days He will revive us; on the third day He will raise us up, and we will live before Him.

The context here is that Israel has been subjected to God’s judgment. This text is a call for Israel to return to the Lord for healing and restoration. While the Hebrew word יוֹם is used here (the same word translated “day” in Genesis 1) in conjunction with an ordinal number, the word “day” is clearly used in a non-literal sense and almost certainly refers to a longer period of time. The use of the word “day,” when combined with an ordinal number, in a non-literal sense makes it possible that the word “day” in Genesis 1 is used in a non-literal sense as well. This does not make it probable by itself, but it at least opens up the possibility.

So what is the best way to understand the days of Genesis 1? There are a number of clues in the text that indicate the days are not to be understood literally. C. John Collins observes that while each of the six work days has the refrain “and there was evening and there was morning, the nth day,” this refrain is missing on the seventh day [48] . Collins suggests that this can be explained by positing that the seventh day on which God rested has not come to an end, like the other six days, but continues even to the present. In support of this, Collins appeals to two New Testament texts: John 5:17 and Hebrews 4:3-11. In the first reference, Jesus gets into trouble for having healed a man on the Sabbath. Jesus responds by saying that “But He said to them, ‘Hitherto my Father worketh, and I also work. ’” Collins suggests that Jesus should be interpreted here as saying, “My Father is working on the Sabbath, even as I am working on the Sabbath.” [49] Collins concludes that “we can explain this most easily if we take Jesus to be speaking to mean that the Sabbath of creation is still continuing.” [50] In Hebrews 4:3-11, the author of Hebrews quotes Psalm 95:11, which indicates that unbelievers will not enter God’s “rest” (v. 3). The author then notes that God “rested” on the seventh day (v. 4). The author claims that Joshua gave the Hebrews no “rest.” Since the context of Psalm 95:11 is that God forbade the Hebrews who had left Egypt to enter the promised land, the author of Hebrews’ claim that Joshua gave the people no true “rest” indicates that he does not understand Psalm 95:11 literally. Rather, there is a Sabbath rest that God’s people can enter. And how can God’s people enter God’s rest? Resting from your works as God did from His (v. 10). Collins concludes, “This makes sense if ‘God’s rest,’ which you entered on the Sabbath of creation, is the same ‘rest’ that believers enter, and therefore God’s rest is still available because it is still continuing.” [51] This interpretation is not modern. In fact, Augustine of Hippo wrote in his Confessions that the seventh day of creation “has no evening, nor does it have sunset, for you sanctified it to last forever.” [52] What are the implications of this idea? Collins notes, “If the seventh day is not ordinary, then we can begin to wonder if perhaps the other six days need to be ordinary . ” [53]

John Collins also points to Genesis 2:5-7, in which we read

5 Now no shrub of the field was yet on the earth, nor had any plant of the field yet sprouted, for the LORD God had not sent rain on the earth, and there was no man to till the ground. 6 But a mist went up from the earth and watered the whole face of the ground. 7 Then the LORD God formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.

Collins points out that this text “does not agree with the sequence of days in the first account: there God made the plants on the third day, as we find in 1:11-12” [54] . Furthermore, “in 2:5-6 these plants are said not to be there because it had not yet rained (which is the ‘ordinary providence’ reason for the plants not being there), whereas in Genesis 1 He created them (which is a special situation) [55] . “The best way to harmonize these texts is to consider that Genesis 2:5-7 refers to a localized region of the earth, not the globe as a whole, i.e., that in a specific region of the planet “not a single plant of the field had yet sprung up,” because it had not yet rained. That the origin of plants described in Genesis 1:11-12 refers to a different event than that described in Genesis 2:5-7 is evident, since Genesis 2:5 states that the reason the bushes and plants of the field had not sprouted was because there had been no rain, implying that the growth of plants relates to God’s ordinary providence, not to their special creation by divine decree, as in 1:11-12. In other words, it was the dry season. Collins notes that “in Palestine there is no rain during the summer, and the fall rains cause an explosion of plant growth. So verses 5-7 would make sense if we assume that they describe a time of year when it has been a dry summer, so plants are not growing; but the rains and man are about to come, so plants will be able to grow in the ‘ground’ [56] . Collins concludes: “The only way I can make sense of this explanation of ordinary providence given by the Bible itself is if I imagine that the cycle of rain, plant growth, and dry season had been going on for some number of years before this point, because the text says nothing about God not having yet made plants” [57] . If this is the case, then this would suggest that the length of the six days of creation could not have been that of an ordinary week, since it would imply that the cycle of seasons had been going on for some time.

It can be seen that Genesis 1:11-12 does not necessarily imply that God created fully developed plants de novo , since the text indicates that “The earth brought forth vegetation…” This would allow one to consider that the growth of plants was brought about by God’s establishment of the cycle of ordinary providence. However, since vegetation and fruit trees take more than a day to grow and develop by ordinary providence, this would still imply a creation week quite different in terms of length than our typical week. In my view, positing that Genesis 1:11-12 and Genesis 2:5-6 refer to distinct events, the latter being more local in scope, is the simplest and most natural explanation of the relevant data. This, for the reasons stated above, tends to suggest a creation week that is not identical in length to our regular seven-day week.

There are still further indications that the length of the creation week is not like our typical weeks. For example, many have pointed to the large number of events said to have taken place on the sixth day, which presumably would have taken longer than a single solar day. Collins lists the various things said to have occurred on the sixth day: “God makes the animals of the earth, forms Adam, plants the Garden and brings the man there, gives him instructions, sets him on a search for ‘a helper suitable for him’ (and during this search Adam names all the animals), puts him into a deep sleep, and makes a woman from his rib” [58] . Furthermore, when Adam joins the woman, Eve, whom God had formed, Adam replies, “This is at last bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh,” [59] suggesting that Adam has waited a long time for a helper suitable for him.

In addition to the discussion of whether the “days” of the creation week are to be understood literally or not, there is also the question of whether there is any reason to exclude the possibility of there being gaps between the days, even if those days are taken as regular days. Indeed, John Lennox suggests “that the writer did not intend for us to think of the first six days as days of a single earthly week, but rather as a sequence of six creation days; that is, days of normal length (with evenings and mornings, as the text says) in which God acted to create something new, but days that might well have been separated by long periods of time. We have already seen that Genesis separates the initial creation, “the beginning,” from the sequence of days. What we now further suggest is that the individual days might well have been separated from each other by unspecified periods of time” [60] . I am not aware of any linguistic reason to exclude this possibility.

To recap, although young-earth creationists are correct that the best translation of the Hebrew word יוֹם in the context of Genesis 1 is “day,” the text of Genesis 1 is consistent with the creation week being quite different from our ordinary weeks with respect to length. However, what is the best way to understand the nature of the creation days? It is to this question that I now turn.

An analog days approach

My view is closest to that advocated by C. John Collins, which he calls the analogical days view. [61] Collins notes that “the best explanation is one which sees these days as not being of the ordinary kind; they are, instead, ‘God’s work days.’ Our work days are not identical with them, but analogous. The purpose of analogy is to establish a pattern for the human rhythm of work and rest. The length of these days is not relevant for this purpose.” [62] One advantage of this approach is that one can understand the word “day” in its ordinary sense, but apply its meaning analogically, just as one does with other analogical expressions such as the “eyes of the Lord” (in that case, we need not propose an alternative translation of the Hebrew word for “eye,” but rather understand its ordinary meaning in an analogical sense).

The interpretation of analogical days also allows us to make sense of the Sabbath commandment in Exodus 20:8-11, where we read,

8. Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. 9. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, 10. but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. In it you shall not do any work: you, nor your son, nor your daughter, nor your male or female servant, nor your livestock, nor the stranger who is with you. 11. For in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and hallowed it.

Young Earth creationists argue that this text indicates that the creation week consisted of six ordinary days, since it is said to set a pattern for an ordinary work week. However, as Collins notes, “This misses two key points: the first is what we have already noted about creation’s rest being unique. The second is that our work and our rest cannot be identical to God’s; they are like God’s in some ways, but they are certainly not the same” [63] . Collins notes that there are obvious points of disanalogy between God’s work week and our own: “For example, when was the last time you spoke and made a plant grow? Rather, our planting, watering, and fertilizing are like God’s work, because they operate on what is there and make it produce something it would not have produced otherwise. Our rest is like God’s, because we stop working to look with pleasure at his works” [64] . On the other hand, God is said to have rested on the Sabbath. Collins notes that “That last word in Hebrew, ‘rested,’ has the sense of catching one’s breath after being exhausted (see Ex. 23:12; 2 Sam. 16:14); and I can assure you that you don’t mean that God needs that kind of respite (see Isa. 40:28-31 – God does not get tired). Rather, we need to view it as an analogy: there are points of similarity between the two things, but also points of difference” [65] . Of course, there is also an analogy between God’s work week and the six years of sowing the land followed by a seventh year of rest (Ex. 23:10-11).

One consideration I would add to Collins’ case is that the ancients often used numbers symbolically rather than literally. For example, the evangelist Matthew refers to three sets of “fourteen generations”—from Abraham to David, from David to the exile, and from the exile to Christ (Mt 1:17)—even though he has to double up and skip generations to make the math work. He probably does this because fourteen is the numerical value of David’s name in Hebrew, and Matthew intends to convey that Jesus is the promised Davidic heir. So it seems to me that it is not too far-fetched to speculate that perhaps something similar is going on in Genesis 1, where the number seven is used in a symbolic rather than literal sense.

There may also be other reasons, besides the analogy with the human work week, why the author of Genesis chose to use the number seven. Earlier in this article, I have criticized the cosmic temple view of Genesis 1 advocated by John Walton. However, one useful insight from Walton’s analysis is the parallel he draws between the biblical account of creation and that concerning the building of the tabernacle and temple. For example, he observes that “Isaiah 66:1 clearly expresses the function of the temple/cosmos in biblical theology, as it identifies heaven as God’s throne and earth as His footstool, providing Him with a place of rest. God also rests on the seventh day of creation, just as He rests in His temple . ” [66] The assertion that God rests in His temple is derived from Psalm 132:13-14, where we read: “For the LORD has chosen Zion; He has desired it for His dwelling place. This is my resting place forever; here I will dwell, for I have desired it.”

Walton further observes that “heavenly bodies are referred to using the unusual term ‘lights,’ which throughout the rest of the Pentateuch refers to the lights of the tabernacle’s lampstand” [67] . Furthermore, “the idea of ​​rivers flowing from the holy place is found both in Genesis 2 (which we will suggest portrays Eden as the Holy of Holies) and in Ezekiel’s temple (Ezek. 47:1)” [68] . In a similar vein, Michael Fishbane further argues that [69] ,

Indeed, as Martin Buber long ago pointed out, there are a number of key verbal parallels between the account of the creation of the world and the description of the building of the tabernacle in the wilderness (compare Genesis 1:31; 2:1; 2:2; 2:3 with Exodus 39:43; 39:32; 40:33; and 39:43, respectively). Thus, “Moses saw all the work” that the people “did” in building the tabernacle; “and Moses completed the work” and “blessed” the people for all their labors.

… Itis evident, then, that the construction of the tabernacle has been presented in the image of the creation of the world, and signified as an extension of a process begun at creation.

Walton also points to Exodus 40:34 and 1 Kings 8:11, which indicate that the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle and the temple respectively . [70] Walton compares these texts with Isaiah 6:3, which describes Isaiah’s vision in the temple, where the seraphim are shouting to one another, saying “Holy, Holy, Holy, is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.” Another connection between creation and the temple is Psalm 78:69, which says, “He built his sanctuary like the heights, like the earth which he has founded forever.”

Now this is where it gets interesting in relation to the seven “days” described in the creation account. G.K. Beale observes that [71] ,

More specifically, both the creation and tabernacle-building accounts are structured around a series of seven acts: cf. “And God said” (Gen. 1:3, 6, 9, 14, 20, 24, 26; cf. vv. 11, 28, 29) and “the LORD said” (Ex. 25:1; 30:11, 17, 22, 34; 31:1, 12) (Sailhamer 1992: 298-299). In light of observing similar and additional parallels between the “creation of the world” and “the building of the sanctuary,” J. Blenkinsopp concludes that “the place of worship is a cosmos on a scale” (1992: 217-218).

Levenson also suggests that the same cosmic significance follows from the fact that Solomon took seven years to build the temple (1 Kgs. 6:38), that he dedicated it in the seventh month, during the Feast of Tabernacles (a seven-day festival [1 Kgs. 8]), and that his dedication speech was structured around seven petitions (1 Kgs. 8:31–55). The building of the temple thus appears to have been inspired by the seven-day creation of the world, which also coincides with the seven-day construction of temples elsewhere in the Ancient Near East (Levenson 1988:78–79). Just as God rested on the seventh day from his work of creation, when the creation of the tabernacle and especially the temple is finished, God takes a “resting place” in it.

Perhaps, therefore, the organization of the creation account around seven days is one aspect of the intended parallelism between creation and the temple or tabernacle, which would provide another reason why the number seven may be used in a symbolic sense in Genesis 1.

Are the days of creation ordered chronologically?

Another question we must address is whether the text of Genesis 1 requires us to take the days as being in chronological sequence, and if so, whether that poses any problems. The major problem with the chronological interpretation of the days of creation is that photosynthetic plants are created before the sun. In fact, the sun is not created until the fourth day. Hugh Ross points out that technically, the text does not indicate that the sun and moon arose on the fourth day. Rather, the text only reports that God said, “Let there be lights in the expanse of the heaven to separate the day from the night. And let them be for signs and for seasons, for days and for years, and let them be for lights in the expanse of the heaven to give light on the earth.” [72 ] Furthermore, “Genesis 1” employs a set of verbs for the creation of birds, mammals, human beings, and the universe. These verbs —bara, asa, and yasar— mean ‘to create,’ ‘to make,’ and ‘to design’ or ‘to form,’ respectively. Another verb, haya , means ‘to exist, be, occur, or happen’ and is used in conjunction with the appearance of ‘light’ on the first day and of ‘lights in the expanse of the sky’ on the fourth day . ” [73] Ross suggests that this is “consistent with the starting point of the creation week at the advent of light on the Earth’s surface – that divinely orchestrated moment when light first penetrated the opaque medium enveloping the primordial planet.” [74] Ross further argues that on the fourth day “God transformed the Earth’s atmosphere from translucent to transparent. At that point, the Sun, Moon, and stars became visible from the Earth’s surface as distinct sources of light.” [75] I am not convinced by this proposal, since it seems to run into the problem that photosynthetic plants were deprived of light for a significant portion of Earth’s history.

An alternative scenario, proposed by C. John Collins, seems more appealing to me. Collins points out that the Hebrew verb used in Genesis 1:16, יַּ֣עַשׂ (“asa”), meaning “to make,” “does not specifically mean ‘create’; it may refer to that, but it may also refer to ‘working on something that is already there’ (hence the ESV margin), or even ‘appointed’.” [76] He therefore argues that “verse 14 focuses on the function of the luminaries rather than their origin: the verb there is is completed by the purpose clause, ‘set apart. ’ The account of this day therefore focuses on these luminaries fulfilling a function that God appointed for man’s welfare, and that they fulfill that function at God’s command, implying that it is foolish to worship them . ” [77]

Apart from the issue that the sun, moon, and stars did not appear until the fourth day (which I think Collins has satisfactorily resolved), I see no further chronological incompatibilities between the Genesis 1 account and the scientific evidence.

However, if we are not convinced by either Ross’s or Collins’s proposal, would it be a valid alternative approach to posit that the “days” of creation are arranged without regard to chronology? I will now examine this question.

Many have pointed out that days one through three form a triad that corresponds to that formed by days four through six. On day one, God creates light and distinguishes it from darkness; while on day four, God creates the sun, moon, and stars. On day two, God separates the sky and the sea; while on day five, God creates birds and sea creatures. On day three, God brings dry land into view; while on day six, God creates land animals and human beings. Some have argued that this pattern indicates that the exact chronological sequence of events is not in mind. This observation forms the basis of the literary frame view, first proposed by Johann Gottfried von Herder (1744–1803) [78] . Mark Throntveit also argues that this structural organization of the text suggests that the sequence of days is not intended to express a chronological sequence [79] . However, as many have rightly pointed out in response to this argument, literary setting and chronological sequence are not necessarily mutually exclusive . [80]

Otro argumento para considerar que los días están ordenados anacrónicamente  son las supuestas contradicciones entre la secuencia de acontecimientos descrita en Génesis 1 y 2. Ya he abordado una de ellas mostrando que Génesis 2 se centra en una región geográfica concreta. La otra contradicción que a veces se alega es que Génesis 2:19 indica que la creación de los animales tuvo lugar después de que la humanidad entrara en escena, como sugieren algunas traducciones. Sin embargo, Collins sostiene que el verbo hebreo debería traducirse por el pluscuamperfecto “había formado”, lo que resuelve este problema[81].

No obstante, hay que reconocer que los antiguos no siempre narraban cronológicamente. A veces narraban los acontecimientos anacrónicamente (aunque, hay que señalar, sin utilizar marcadores cronológicos como “al día siguiente”). Por ejemplo, en la tentación de Cristo, que se narra en Mateo 4 y Lucas 4, los dos relatos no cuentan las tres tentaciones en el mismo orden. Mateo relaciona los acontecimientos utilizando la palabra Τότε (que significa “entonces”), mientras que Lucas relaciona los acontecimientos utilizando la palabra Καὶ (que significa “y”). Por esta razón, me inclino a creer que Mateo representa los acontecimientos en orden cronológico, mientras que Lucas los representa anacrónicamente. Así pues, la clave para determinar si Génesis 1 compromete a sus lectores a interpretarlo como un relato cronológico de los acontecimientos es dilucidar si hay algún marcador cronológico concreto en el texto que lleve a su audiencia original a creer que se está describiendo una sucesión secuencial de acontecimientos.

En 1996, David A. Sterchi publicó un artículo en el Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society. En este artículo argumentaba que, aunque la estructura y la sintaxis de Génesis 1 no excluyen la secuencia cronológica, tampoco la exigen[82]. Señala que los cinco primeros días de la creación carecen de artículo definido, aunque los días seis y siete sí lo tienen. Así, estas frases se traducen más adecuadamente “un día… un segundo día… un tercer día… un cuarto día… un quinto día”. Sterchi sugiere que “el texto no está implicando una secuencia cronológica de siete días. Por el contrario, simplemente presenta una lista de siete días”[83]. Además, argumenta que “por un lado, había un compromiso con la verdad al informar sobre el relato en el texto. Por otro, el deseo de utilizar una estructura literaria para reforzar su mensaje. Una forma de lograr la libertad literaria y seguir manteniendo la verdad en el proceso era eliminar los límites de la sintaxis cronológica. Así, el autor optó por dejar los días indefinidos y utilizó el artículo en los días seis y siete para enfatizar, no para determinar”[84].

Si los acontecimientos se narran cronológicamente, ¿hay alguna hipótesis plausible de por qué la creación del sol y la luna no se menciona hasta el cuarto día? Yo creo que sí. Johnny Miller y John Soden señalan que el orden de los acontecimientos entre el relato de la creación del Génesis y el de los egipcios es sorprendentemente similar, aunque hay diferencias clave, una de las cuales es que la aparición del sol es el acontecimiento inicial y principal en el mito egipcio de la creación, mientras que el sol se retrasa hasta el cuarto día en el relato bíblico[85]. Señalan que “la problemática no es tanto el cambio de orden (sigue siendo el mismo, salvo por la aparición de la vida vegetal). Más bien el uso de la ‘semana’ en la creación en lugar de un solo día retrasa el acontecimiento de la salida del sol de la primera mañana hasta el cuarto día. El sol ya no es la fuerza dominante o el rey sobre los dioses (aunque debía “gobernar el día”; Gn. 1:16). El sol es una más de las creaciones sumisas de Dios, que cumple sus órdenes y sirve a su voluntad. La imagen resultante resta importancia al sol, el actor principal de Egipto. En cambio, Dios brilla claramente como el soberano y trascendente gobernador de la creación. El clímax es la creación de la humanidad como representante de Dios”[86]. En relación con este motivo también está la omisión de los nombres del sol y la luna, que eran venerados como deidades por los egipcios; en su lugar, estos cuerpos celestes se denominan “la lumbrera mayor” y “la lumbrera menor”.

Resumen

Para concluir, no se puede, a mi juicio, sostener que los “días” de la creación son una serie de seis días solares consecutivos y rechazar al mismo tiempo una interpretación de la Tierra joven. Aunque Sailhamer y Walton, entre otros, han intentado hacerlo, mi evaluación de sus respectivos enfoques es que no logran armonizar esta interpretación con una Tierra antigua. Además, el relato del Génesis no dice nada sobre la edad del Universo o de la Tierra, ya que éstos son creados antes del comienzo del primer día de la semana de la creación. Por lo tanto, la única cuestión que debe evaluarse es la edad de la biosfera. Además, hay algunas pistas en el texto de Génesis 1 que son consistentes con que la semana de la creación fue más larga que nuestras semanas regulares. Se puede armonizar el texto de Génesis 1 con una interpretación de la Tierra antigua planteando la presencia de brechas entre cada uno de los “días” o planteando que los “días” no son literales. La interpretación analógica de los días sugerida por Collins y otros es la interpretación no literal más plausible de los días. Aunque la estructura y la sintaxis del pasaje son consistentes con que los días estén ordenados cronológicamente, no lo requieren.

Notas de páginas

[1] Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1997), 570–571.

[2] John Sailhamer, Genesis Unbound: A Provocative New Look at the Creation Account (Colorado Springs, CO: Multnomah Books, 1996), kindle.

[3] John Piper, “What Should We Teach About Creation?” Desiring God, June 1, 2010 (http://www.desiringgod.org/interviews/what-should-we-teach-about-creation)

[4] Mark Driscoll, Doctrine: What Christians Should Believe (Wheaton, IL, Crossway, 2011), 96 (Doctrina: Lo que cada cristiano debe creer)

[5] Matt Chandler, The Explicit Gospel (Wheaton, IL, Crossway, 2012), 96-97 (El evangelio explícito)

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Ibid.

[10] Ibid.

[11] Ibid.

[12] Ibid.

[13] John H. Walton, The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2009).

[14] Ibid., 91

[15] Ibid., 64

[16] Ibid., 92

[17] Ibid., 170.

[18] Ibid., 42.

[19] John C. Lennox, Seven Days That Divide the World: The Beginning according to Genesis and Science (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), 132. (El principio según el Génesis y la Ciencia)

[20] Lydia McGrew, “Review of John H. Walton’s The Lost World of Genesis One,” What’s Wrong with the World, March 12, 2015. http://whatswrongwiththeworld.net/2015/03/review_of_john_h_waltons_the_l.html

[21] John H. Walton, The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2009), 98.

[22] Ibid., 96.

[23] Ibid., 24.

[24] Ibid., 41.

[25] Ibid.

[26] Ibid.

[27] C. John Collins, “Review of John Walton, The Lost World Of Genesis One,” Reformed Academic, May 22, 2013.

[28] Michael Jones, “Genesis 1a: And God Said!” Inspiring Philosophy, June 7, 2019, YouTube video, 22:42, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R24WZ4Hvytc

[29] Ibid.

[30] John H. Walton, The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2009), 30.

[31] Ibid., 32.

[32] Ibid.

[33] Bruce Waltke, “The Creation Account in Genesis 1:1–3, Part III: The Initial Chaos Theory and the Precreation Chaos Theory,” Bibliotheca Sacra 132 (July–September 1975), 216–228.

[34] C. John Collins, Genesis 1-4: A Linguistic, Literary, and Theological Commentary (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2011), kindle.

[35] John Sailhamer, Genesis Unbound: A Provocative New Look at the Creation Account (Colorado Springs, CO: Multnomah Books, 1996), kindle.

[36] Ibid.

[37] Bruce Waltke, “The Creation Account in Genesis 1:1–3, Part III: The Initial Chaos Theory and the Precreation Chaos Theory,” Bibliotheca Sacra 132 (July–September 1975), 216–228.

[38] Ibid.

[39] Ibid.

[40] Ibid.

[41] C. John Collins, Genesis 1-4: A Linguistic, Literary, and Theological Commentary (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2011).

[42] Ibid.

[43] The New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) se opta por esta traducción.

[44] C. John Collins, Reading Genesis Well: Navigating History, Poetry, Science, and Truth in Genesis 1–11 (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2018), 160–161.

[45] Ibid., 161.

[46] Hugh Ross, A Matter of Days: Resolving a Creation Controversy (San Francisco, CA: RTB Press, 2015), 74.

[47] Jonathan Sarfati, Refuting Compromise: A Biblical and Scientific Refutation of “Progressive Creationism” (Billions of Years) As Popularized by Astronomer Hugh Ross (Creation Book Publishers; 2nd edition, 2011), kindle.

[48] C. John Collins, Science & Faith: Friends or Foes? (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2003), 62.

[49] Ibid., 84-85.

[50] Ibid., 85.

[51] Ibid.

[52] Saint Augustine Bishop of Hippo, The Confessions of St. Augustine, trans. E. B. Pusey (Oak Harbor, WA: Logos Research Systems, Inc., 1996) (San Agustín de Hipona, Confesiones)

[53] C. John Collins, Science & Faith: Friends or Foes? (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2003), 85.

[54] Ibid., 87.

[55] Ibid.

[56] Ibid., 88.

[57] Ibid.

[58] Ibid., 89.

[59] Ibid.

[60] John C. Lennox, Seven Days That Divide the World: The Beginning According to Genesis and Science (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), 54. (El principio según el Génesis y la Ciencia)

[61]  C. John Collins, Science & Faith: Friends or Foes? (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2003), 90.

[62] Ibid., 89.

[63] Ibid., 86.

[64] Ibid.

[65] Ibid.

[66] John H. Walton, Genesis, The NIV Application Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2001), 148.

[67] Ibid.

[68] Ibid.

[69] Michael Fishbane, Text and Texture (New York: Schocken, 1979).

[70] John H. Walton, Genesis, The NIV Application Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2001), 149.

[71] G. K. Beale, The Temple and the Church’s Mission: A Biblical Theology of the Dwelling Place of God, ed. D. A. Carson, vol. 17, New Studies in Biblical Theology (Downers Grove, IL; England: InterVarsity Press; Apollos, 2004), 61.

[72] Hugh Ross, A Matter of Days: Resolving a Creation Controversy (San Francisco, CA: RTB Press, 2015), 80-82.

[73] Ibid., 82.

[74] Ibid.

[75] Ibid.

[76] C. John Collins, Genesis 1-4: A Linguistic, Literary, and Theological Commentary (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2011), kindle.

[77] Ibid.

[78] Johann Gottfried von Herder, The Spirit of Hebrew Poetry, trans. James Marsh (Burlington, Ontario: Edward Smith, 1833), 1:58. See also Gordon J. Wenham, Genesis 1–15, Word Biblical Commentary (Waco, TX: Word Books, 1987), 6–7.

[79] Mark Throntveit, “Are the Events in the Genesis Account Set Forth in Chronological Order? No,” The Genesis Debate (ed. R. Youngblood; Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1986) 36–55.

[80] John C. Lennox, Seven Days That Divide the World: The Beginning according to Genesis and Science (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), (El principio según el Génesis y la Ciencia)

[81] C. John Collins, “The Wayyiqtol as ‘Pluperfect’: When and Why?” Tyndale Bulletin 46, no. 1 (1995): 117–40.

[82] David A. Sterchi, “Does Genesis 1 Provide a Chronological Sequence?” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society (December 1996), 529-536.

[83] Ibid.

[84] Ibid.

[85] Johnny V. Miller and John M. Soden, In the Beginning … We Misunderstood: Interpreting Genesis 1 in Its Original Context (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 2012), 106.

[86] Ibid.

Recursos recomendados en Español: 

Stealing from God ( Paperback ), ( Teacher Study Guide ), and ( Student Study Guide ) by Dr. Frank Turek

Why I Don’t Have Enough Faith to Be an Atheist ( Complete DVD Series ), ( Teacher’s Workbook ), and ( Student’s Handbook ) by Dr. Frank Turek 

 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dr. Jonathan McLatchie is a Christian writer, international speaker, and debater. He holds a BSc (Hons) in Forensic Biology, an MSc (Research Masters) in Evolutionary Biology, a second MSc in Medical and Molecular Biosciences, and a PhD in Evolutionary Biology. He is currently an Assistant Professor of Biology at Sattler College in Boston, Massachusetts. Dr. McLatchie contributes to several apologetics websites and is the founder of Apologetics Academy (Apologetics-Academy.org), a ministry that seeks to equip and train Christians to persuasively defend the faith through regular webinars, as well as to assist Christians struggling with doubt. Dr. McLatchie has participated in over thirty moderated debates around the world with representatives of atheism, Islam, and other alternative worldview perspectives. He has lectured internationally in Europe, North America and South Africa promoting an intelligent, thoughtful and evidence-based Christian faith.

Original Blog: https://cutt.ly/ERkWVCH

Translated by Elias Castro

Edited by Elenita Romero 

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

 

Bart Ehrman is a professor of religious studies at UNC-Chapel Hill in North Carolina. He is well known for his best-selling books critiquing core tenets of evangelical Christianity and, in particular, the reliability of New Testament sources. Regular readers of my articles will already know that Ehrman is not the most careful scholar when it comes to his use of ancient sources. A few days ago, Ehrman posted two blog entries ( here and here ) on his website, claiming that the idea that Jesus is himself Yahweh is a recent doctrinal innovation, completely foreign to the New Testament and the early church. Ehrman even goes so far as to say that this is the view of only “some conservative evangelical Christians” and that “I have never even heard the claim (let alone a discussion of it) until very recently.” Furthermore, Ehrman adds,

I, frankly, had never heard of such a thing until six years ago. Maybe I wasn’t listening in Sunday school, or maybe I was sleeping through those particular lectures at Moody Bible Institute; or maybe… Nah, I don’t think so. If anyone knows otherwise, please let me know. But I can’t think of any ancient Christian source that speaks of Jesus as Yahweh himself. Jesus is the son of Yahweh.

Ehrman claims that,

The first time I heard someone say with authority that Jesus was Yahweh and that this was standard Christian teaching was in a debate I had with Justin Bass in 2015 – you can listen to it on Youtube. I don’t remember at what point in the debate he said it, but he made some comment about Jesus being Yahweh, and I froze. I thought: theologians have never called Jesus Yahweh!

That a scholar of Ehrman’s stature would be misinformed about orthodox Christian teaching on such a fundamental issue is absolutely astonishing. In this article, I respond to Ehrman’s articles and show that he is profoundly mistaken about the teaching of the New Testament and the early church.

The first Christian theologians

Ehrman wonders “if there are early Christian theologians who hold this view.” Yes, there are many. For example, Justin Martyr (~100-165), in his dialogue with Trypho the Jew, wrote [1] ,

…now you will permit me first to relate the prophecies, which I wish to do to prove that Christ is called both God and Lord of hosts…

I don’t know how one can be clearer than that. Irenaeus (~130-202) also states [2] ,

For I have shown from the Scriptures that none of the sons of Adam is called God or Lord in all things and absolutely. But that He Himself is in His own right, beyond all men who have ever lived, God, and Lord, and Eternal King, and the Incarnate Word, proclaimed by all the prophets, the apostles, and by the Spirit Himself, can be seen by all who have attained even a small portion of the truth.

Ignatius of Antioch (~50-108) also affirmed the full deity of Christ. For example, in his epistle to the Ephesians, he wrote [3] ,

We also have as our Physician the Lord our God, Jesus the Christ, the only begotten Son and Word, before time, but who later also became man, from the virgin Mary.

I could go on quoting the early church fathers for quite a while, but this should suffice to show that the view that Jesus is Yahweh, the eternal God, is not a new idea but goes back to the early church. I will now turn to Ehrman’s comments on the New Testament.

Is the name Yahweh found in the New Testament?

Ehrman states that

Of course, the name Yahweh is not found in the NT at all, as it is a Hebrew word, and the NT is written in Greek. The NT does not give God a personal name.

This is obviously true since the New Testament was written in Greek, not Hebrew. However, the New Testament uses an equivalent word – in fact, the word that replaces the Hebrew tetragrammaton YHWH in the Septuagint Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible. This word is κύριος, which is translated “Lord” in our English Bibles. It is of course true that this word had a broader range of meaning than simply denoting Yahweh (for example, Paul uses it of earthly masters – see Eph 6:5). However, the meaning of the Greek words, as intended by the original author, can be teased out by an examination of the context. For example, Hebrews 1:10-12 quotes Psalm 102:25-27:

“You, Lord, laid the foundations of the earth in the beginning, and the heavens are the work of your hands. 11 They will perish, but you will remain. They will all wear out like a garment. 12 You will roll them up like a cloak, and they will be changed like a robe. But you are the same, and your years will have no end.”

Verse 10 uses the word κύριος, which is evidently (given the fact that the author is quoting an Old Testament Psalm concerning the Lord God) intended to denote Yahweh. What makes this text especially noteworthy for our purposes here is that the author of Hebrews applies the words of this Psalm to Jesus. In fact, this Hebrew scripture is one of several applied to Jesus in Hebrews 1, as the author compares and contrasts the exaltation of the Son with that of angelic beings.

To take another example, consider Paul’s quotation of Joel 2:32 in Romans 10:13: “For ‘everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.'” Again, this alludes to an Old Testament text that refers to Yahweh. But Paul introduces this text only a few verses after having declared that “if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved” (Rom. 10:9). The implication here is that the κύριος of verse 9 is the same referent as in verse 13 – namely, Jesus. In other words, Jesus is the Yahweh of Joel 2:32, on whose name we are to call. This point is made even more explicitly by Paul in 1 Corinthians 1:2: “To the church of God which is in Corinth, to those sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, together with all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours.” This text again clearly alludes to Joel 2:32, except that the Lord (κύριος) whom we are to call upon is none other than Jesus Christ.

Another example is found in 1 Peter 2:2-4:

“2 As newborn babes, long for the pure milk of the word, that by it you may grow up in your salvation, 3 if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good. 4 As you come to him, you are a living stone rejected by men but chosen and precious in God’s sight…”

Verse 3 quotes Psalm 34:8 (“Oh, taste and see that the LORD [Yahweh] is good!”). However, verse 4 identifies the κύριος of Psalm 34:8 as none other than Jesus himself (the closest antecedent of the pronoun “he” in verse 4 is “the Lord” of verse 3). This implies that Jesus is the Yahweh of Psalm 34:8.

Another example is found in 1 Peter 3:14-15

“14 But even though you may suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed. Do not be afraid of them, nor be troubled, 15 but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy…”

It is true that there is some level of ambiguity about the original reading of verse 15, as most later manuscripts read θεόν (“God”) rather than Χριστόν (“Christ”). However, Bruce Metzger points out that [4] ,

The reading Χριστόν , however, is strongly supported by early and diversified external evidence… as well as by transcriptional probability, the more familiar expression ( κύριον τὸν θεόν ) substituting the less usual expression ( κύριον τὸν Χριστόν ). The omission of τὸν Χριστόν in the patristic treatise Promissionibus attributed to Quodvultdeus must be due to an accidental oversight of the translator or copyist.

If (as seems likely) the original reading is indeed “Christ the Lord,” then we have another example of an Old Testament text referring to Yahweh applied to Jesus. Compare 1 Peter 3:14-15, above, with Isaiah 8:12-13:

12 “Do not call all that this people call conspiracy a conspiracy, and do not fear what they fear, nor be afraid. 13 But you shall honor the LORD of hosts as a holy one.”

Isaiah 8:12 is quoted by 1 Peter 3:14. Isaiah 8:13 is quoted by 1 Peter 3:15, except that instead of calling his readers to honor the Lord of hosts as holy (as Isaiah did), Peter implores his readers to honor Christ the Lord as holy. Thus we have another case in which the title κύριος (which is correctly interpreted here as a substitute for the Hebrew tetragrammaton) is applied to Jesus.

I could continue along a similar line for a considerable time. However, I trust that this is enough to dispel Ehrman’s argument that the New Testament does not use the name Yahweh and therefore never calls Jesus Yahweh.

Does Psalm 110 rule out Jesus being Yahweh?

Ehrman continues,

When Christians wanted to find another divine being in the Old Testament to identify as Christ, they turned to passages like Psalm 110: “The LORD said to my Lord, ‘Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies your footstool.'” Based on what I said in my previous post, you can reconstruct who is speaking to whom here (note that the first LORD is capitalized and the second is not): “YHWH said to Adonai….”

Ehrman’s entire argument here implicitly presupposes Unitarianism. If the doctrine of the Trinity is true, then there is no problem with the persons within Yahweh’s being or essence being distinguished from one another and even participating in conversation with one another. Nor is there any problem with the Father exalting the Son, since the Son had willingly humbled himself through his incarnation and death on the cross. No Trinitarian identifies the Son with the Father. Rather, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are each distinctive persons who together share fully in Yahweh’s essence, each possessing the divine attributes fully and completely.

Ehrman’s rendering of the words used in Psalm 110:1 is not entirely accurate, as it does not say “YHWH said to Adonai…” but rather “YHWH said to Adoni.” This difference may seem trivial (especially since these two words are distinguished only by a difference in Masoretic vowel pointing), but it is actually important. The title “Adonai” is used exclusively as a divine title (essentially as a synonym for YHWH). In fact, the ancient Hebrews, rather than pronouncing the divine name, would say “Adonai.” The word “Adoni,” by contrast, is simply the possessive form of the Hebrew word “Adon,” meaning “Lord” or “Master” (the Hebrew equivalent of the Greek word κύριος). The word can be used to refer to Yahweh, depending on the context, but it is not reserved exclusively to Yahweh. The upshot of this is that, although many Christians have used this text to argue for a plurality of divine persons (and, indeed, for the deity of Christ), the reality is that any such argument based on this text is going to require more work and nuance than it often receives. I don’t think this text is as conclusive as the previous texts we’ve looked at. However, it is, I would argue, certainly suggestive, as we’ll see. The context sheds some light on the referent of verse 1. In verse 5-7 of Psalm 110, we read,

The Lord is at his right hand; he will crush kings on the day of his wrath. He will judge the nations, heaping up the dead and crushing the rulers of the whole earth. He will drink from a brook along the way, and so he will lift up his head on high.

In the Hebrew, verse 5 identifies the one sitting at Yahweh’s right hand as none other than Adonai, a word only used to refer to deity. Thus, Psalm 110 implies a plurality of divine persons within the Godhead. One possible response to this is that Psalm 110:5 is simply the inversion of Psalm 110:1. Just as David’s Lord sits at Yahweh’s right hand, so too Yahweh is at the right hand of David’s Lord. For example, in Psalm 109:31, Yahweh is at the right hand of the needy, and in Psalm 16:8, Yahweh is at the right hand of the psalmist David. The problem with this argument is that if one continues reading Psalm 110, it is clear that the “He”s in verses 5-7 all refer to Adonai, and in verse 7 this individual is said to drink from a stream, a human function. Thus, the individual sitting at the right hand of Yahweh in Psalm 110 appears to be a divine-human person.

Furthermore, Jesus himself argues that “David himself calls him ‘Lord.’ How then can he be his son?” (Mark 12:37). What Jesus means is that none of David’s descendants could be greater than he. Therefore, he cannot refer to an ordinary human descendant of David. The question then arises as to what kind of Lord he could be referring to. But we can go even further. David’s Lord cannot be any human king either, since in Psalm 2:10-12 all kings must be subject to David, and Psalm 89:26-27 tells us that,

“I will appoint him [David] as my firstborn, the greatest of the kings of the earth”

Nor can He be a mere angelic creature, since angels serve God’s elect and are themselves servants (cf. Heb. 1:7, 14; Rev. 19:10 and 22:8-9). Who is left then? God.

The Angel of the Lord

Ehrman notes that Christians (such as Justin Martyr in the second century) have often identified the angel of Yahweh in the Hebrew Bible as a pre-incarnate manifestation of Christ. He writes,

I wonder if the confusion among some evangelicals about the Christian understanding of Christ (when they say He is Yahweh) is because the “Angel” of the LORD is so fully representative of YHWH Himself that He is sometimes called YHWH after He is clearly identified NOT as YHWH but as His angel. Why would He be called YHWH if He were YHWH’s messenger? It would be something like if a messenger from the king comes to you and orders you to do something, you tell your neighbors that the “king” told you to do something. Well, actually, His messenger did it, but he was so fully representative of the king that his words were the king’s words.

This interpretation, however, does not account for the fact that several people throughout the Hebrew Bible marvel at the fact that they have seen the angel of Yahweh and yet their lives are spared (people are not supposed to be able to see Yahweh and live – Exodus 33:20). For example, consider Jacob’s words after he wrestles with a man in Genesis 32, one who is identified in Hosea 12:4 as the angel of Yahweh: “Then Jacob called the name of the place Peniel, saying, ‘For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life has been spared.'” Further support that the individual Jacob wrestled with was the angel of Yahweh comes from the parallelism between Genesis 32:29 and Judges 13:18, in which the man and the angel of Yahweh respectively say, upon being asked for their name, “Why do you ask my name?”

Another instance of this is in Judges 6, where we read of Gideon’s encounter with the angel of Yahweh. In verses 22-24, we read,

22 Then Gideon perceived that it was the angel of the LORD. And Gideon said, “Alas, LORD God! For now I have seen the angel of the LORD face to face.” 23 But the LORD said to him, “Peace be with you. Do not be afraid; you will not die.” 24 So Gideon built an altar there to the LORD and called it, “The LORD is Peace.” To this day it stands in Ophrah, which belongs to the Abiezrites.

Another example is found in Judges 13, which records the appearance of the angel of Yahweh to Manoah and his wife to announce the birth of Samson. In verse 21-22, we read,

21 The angel of the Lord no longer appeared to Manoah and his wife. Then Manoah knew that it was the angel of the Lord. 22 And Manoah said to his wife, “We are sure to die, because we have seen God . “

Thus, we see that numerous texts (and there are many I have not mentioned) attest to the deity of the angel of Yahweh. While Ehrman is correct in pointing out that many of these texts also distinguish the angel of Yahweh from God, this is quite consistent with a Trinitarian paradigm that sees God’s messenger as Yahweh and yet in another sense distinct from Yahweh.

Ehrman’s interpretation of the angel of the Lord passages also fails to explain the parallelism seen in Genesis 48:15-16, in which we read of Jacob’s blessing of Joseph’s sons. He said,

15 “The God before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac walked, the God who has been my shepherd all my life long until this day, 16 the angel who has redeemed me from all evil, may he bless the boys…”

Here we see a poetic parallel in which the angel is identified with God. In fact, in the Hebrew, verse 16b uses the singular pronoun “let him bless the lads,” implying that the angel and God are one and the same.

I discuss the topic of the angel of the Lord in much more detail here and here .

The Carmen Christi

Ehrman then turns his attention to Christ’s poem in Philippians 2:5-11. He writes,

When Christ is exalted after his death, God gives him “the name that is above every name” for all creation to worship and confess. This is a reference to Isaiah 45 where Yahweh alone has the name above every name for all to worship and confess only him.

Possibly these modern Christians are thinking that Christ must therefore have been given the name YHWH, and therefore he *is* YHWH. But the passage does not seem to mean that. The supreme LORD of all, YHWH, is the one who *gives* Jesus the name that is above all others. It is worth noting that in this very passage, when God gives Jesus his “name,” it does not mean that he has made a name change for Jesus. On the contrary, the passage says that the name before which all will bow in worship and confession is *Jesus*! (not YHWH): “That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow and every tongue confess.” Jesus’ own name is exalted.

However, this is not the argument at all. I do not interpret the “name” in verse 9 to be a personal name. Rather, in my view, this is best understood as a reference to Christ’s reputation that he received as a consequence of his humiliation and death on the cross.

There are at least three mutually supporting arguments for the deity of Christ that can be adduced from this text. First, this text is primarily concerned with Christ’s humility, for “though he was in the form of God, he did not consider equality with God something to be grasped” (Phil. 2:6). This only makes sense if Christ is equal in status to God, for humility is not praised for not exalting oneself to a higher status than one is entitled to. If I refrain from overthrowing the monarchy and exalting myself as king, I should not be praised for my humility in restraining myself. The text is therefore best understood if Christ voluntarily stripped himself of the divine privilege that was rightfully his. This reading is also supported by the Greek. In fact, the construction is known as a double object-complement accusative. Daniel Wallace explains that [5] ,

A double accusative object complement is a construction in which one accusative is the direct object of the verb and the other accusative (whether noun, adjective, participle, or infinitive) complements the object in the sense that it predicates something about it.

In this case, the verb is οὐχ ἡγήσατο (“did not count”), the direct object is τὸ εἶναι ἴσα θεῷ (“equality with God”), and the object complement is ἁρπαγμὸν (“a thing to be grasped”). Thus, the relationship between the direct object and the object complement is rather like an equality sign. In other words, Jesus did not consider equality with God to be a thing to be grasped (ἁρπαγμὸν). Furthermore, Roy Hoover has argued that it is actually an idiomatic expression, “referring to something already present and at one’s disposal.” The question… [is] whether or not one decides to exploit something” [6] Hoover observes that in all cases where this noun ἁρπαγμός is the complement of the object in a construction like this (where the verb is to consider or to see or to regard), it always means something like an exploitable advantage. Therefore, Hoover argues, one could reasonably translate this text to be saying that Christ did not regard equality with God as something to be taken advantage of .

A second consideration is that Paul uses the Greek word μορφῇ in verse 6 to describe Christ as having the form of God and uses this same word in verse 7 to describe Christ as taking the form of a servant. This implies that Christ was in the form of God in the same sense that He took upon Himself the form of a servant. Since Christ was literally a servant, “being born in the likeness of men” (v. 7b), it follows that Christ was also literally God.

Third, Ehrman rightly points out that verses 10-11 allude to Isaiah 45:23, in which we read, “To me [i.e., Yahweh] every knee will bow, every tongue will swear allegiance.” However, in the context of Philippians 2:10-11, every knee bows and every tongue swears allegiance to Jesus. Indeed, that is what it means to confess that Jesus Christ is Lord (κύριος), which literally means master.

Conclusion

To conclude, contrary to Ehrman’s claims, the view that Jesus is Yahweh has been the orthodox Christian position for nearly two millennia, and is taught in the New Testament. Ehrman claims that the name Yahweh is never used in the New Testament and that therefore the New Testament authors could not have applied it to Jesus. However, the New Testament does use the equivalent Greek term κύριος. Although this word is also used to describe earthly masters, the word is often used to denote Yahweh when the New Testament quotes the Old Testament, and often these texts are explicitly applied to the person of Jesus. Ehrman’s argument from the New Testament’s use of Psalm 110 presupposes a unitary paradigm. Although Ehrman argues that the angel of the Lord in the Hebrew Bible is only Yahweh’s agent who is invested with divine authority, this argument collapses on the basis of the various exclamations of surprise following an encounter with the angel of the Lord that one has survived despite having seen God face to face. Finally, Ehrman is mistaken regarding Philippians 2:5-11, which is best read as indicating that Christ willingly laid aside the divine privilege that was rightfully His to take the form of a servant.

Footnotes

[1] Justin Martyr, “Dialogue with Tryphon,” in The Apostolic Fathers with Justin Martyr and Irenaeus, ed. Alexander Roberts, James Donalds. Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson and A. Cleveland Coxe, vol. 1, The Ante-Nicene Fathers (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1885), 212.

[2] Irenaeus of Lyons, “Irenaeus Against Heresies,” in The Apostolic Fathers with Justin Martyr and Irenaeus, ed., Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe. Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson and A. Cleveland Coxe, vol. 1, The Ante-Nicene Fathers (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1885), 449.

[3] Ignatius of Antioch, “Letter of Ignatius of Antioch to the Ephesians,” in The Apostolic Fathers with Justin Martyr and Irenaeus, ed. Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson and A. Cleveland Coxe, vol. 1, The Ante-Nicene Fathers (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1885), 449. Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe, vol. 1, The Ante-Nicene Fathers (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1885), 52-200.

[4] Bruce Manning Metzger, United Bible Societies, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, Second Edition a Companion Volume to the United Bible Societies Greek New Testament (4th Rev. Ed.) (London; New York: United Bible Societies, 1994), 621-622.

[5] Daniel B. Wallace, Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996), 182.

[6] Roy W. Hoover, “The Harpagmos Enigma,” Harvard Theological Review 64 (1971).

Recommended resources in Spanish:

Stealing from God ( Paperback ), ( Teacher Study Guide ), and ( Student Study Guide ) by Dr. Frank Turek

Why I Don’t Have Enough Faith to Be an Atheist ( Complete DVD Series ), ( Teacher’s Workbook ), and ( Student’s Handbook ) by Dr. Frank Turek  

 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dr. Jonathan McLatchie is a Christian writer, international speaker, and debater. He holds a BS (Hons) in Forensic Biology, an M.Res in Evolutionary Biology, a second MS in Medical and Molecular Biosciences, and a PhD in Evolutionary Biology. He is currently an Adjunct Professor of Biology at Sattler College in Boston, Massachusetts. Dr. McLatchie contributes to several 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 webinars, as well as to assist Christians struggling with doubt. Dr. McLatchie has participated in over thirty moderated debates around the world with representatives of atheism, Islam, and other alternative worldview perspectives. He has lectured internationally in Europe, North America and South Africa promoting an intelligent, thoughtful and evidence-based Christian faith.

Original Blog: https://cutt.ly/dWH1oIA

Translated by Yatniel Vega Garcia

Edited by Elenita Romero

 

Dale Martin is a scholar of the New Testament, formerly a professor at Yale University until his retirement in 2018. Prior to his appointment at Yale, Martin was a faculty member at Rhodes College and Duke University. Yale University generously uploads many lecture series, covering various disciplines, to their “YaleCourses” YouTube channel. One of their series, uploaded in 2009, covers the discipline of New Testament studies and is instructed by Dale Martin (here is the link to the playlist). Watching Dale Martin teach his introductory lecture raised a number of concerns for me — not primarily because I disagree profoundly with many of Dr. Martin’s conclusions but because a significant number of the ‘facts’ he delivers in his presentation are quite simply false on a factual level, or otherwise misleading. This concerns me because of Dr. Martin’s position at the time as a faculty member and thus a position of trust in relation to his students. Undergraduate students are unlikely to fact-check the statements of one of their professors because it is assumed that the information being delivered at the college level, in particular at a prestigious institution such as Yale, will be factually correct. Imagine being a young Christian freshman student and, being interested in the New Testament, signing up for the course on “Introduction to New Testament History and Literature.” Is it any wonder that somewhere between sixty and eighty percent of young people in the church are losing their faith after going to college? Of course, intellectual concerns are not the only reason why a young student may walk away from the faith, but it is certainly a major factor that contributes to the youth exodus problem. In this article, I will discuss some of the assertions made by Dr. Martin in his introductory lecture, which one can presume is representative of what students in other institutions around the country are also being exposed to.

Dr. Martin begins his lecture by asserting that “the text of the Bible isn’t Scripture in itself. It’s only Scripture to a community of people who take it as Scripture.” This is nothing short of postmodern relativism (though Dale Martin himself elsewhere identifies as a postmodern Christian, so I doubt he would quibble with this). However, this position is not tenable — either the Bible is Scripture for everyone or it is not Scripture for anyone, irrespective of what any individual believes about it. It cannot be Scripture to a community of people who take it to be Scripture and not Scripture to everyone else.

Dr. Martin went on to give his class a quiz about whether certain ideas are found in the Bible or not. He claims that the doctrine of the Trinity is not found in the Bible. However, this is very misleading. Certainly, the word “Trinity” is not in the Bible, and neither are the philosophical categories that came to be associated with the doctrine of the Trinity in particular at the council of Nicaea in 325 A.D (i.e. the distinction between being and person). But the concept of there being one God who is manifest in three distinct persons (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) is an idea that can indeed be found in the Bible. If the Scriptures uphold the doctrine of monotheism and also maintain that the attributes and titles of deity are associated with three distinct persons, I would argue that the Nicene formulation of the doctrine of the Trinity is the best way of understanding the Biblical text. Readers who are interested in a more thorough discussion of this topic are invited to peruse my articles on the subject of the Trinity, available here. Readers may also find useful the recording of my recent debate with an Islamic scholar, Dr. Shabir Ally, on the Trinity vs. Tawhid. Dr. Martin says that “Some people will say that at least the doctrine of the Trinity is hinted at in the Bible and that the later church was correct to read the New Testament to support it. And that might be right theologically. But read historically it’s not in the Bible.” It is not clear to me how Dr. Martin makes a distinction here between reading the Bible theologically and reading it historically. Good hermeneutics attempt to elucidate the meaning of the text as intended by the original author, historically. It is a mistake to draw any sort of distinction between what the text meant historically and what it means theologically.

Dr. Martin also brought up a popularly claimed contradiction between the resurrection accounts in Matthew and Luke. According to Dr. Martin, the gospel of Matthew “has Jesus appear to the disciples only in Galilee (not in Judea), and the gospel of Luke and Acts have Jesus appear to his disciples only in Judea but not in Galilee.” At the end of Luke, however, there is clear haste and a lack of specificity about time. The very end of Luke does not make it look like all of the appearances take place in one day. He’s either running out of scroll or in a hurry at that point, and he doesn’t appear to have full knowledge yet of exactly how long Jesus was on earth, so he just leaves it non-specific and clarifies in Acts 1. I would argue that it is entirely plausible that Jesus’ instruction to remain in Jerusalem (Acts 1:4) was said to the disciples after they had returned to the Jerusalem area from Galilee during the 40 days on which Jesus remained on the earth, perhaps shortly or even immediately prior to the ascension. By all accounts, the ascension occurred from the region of the Mount of Olives near Bethany, so evidently, they went to Galilee and then came back. I do not see a problem here. 

Dr. Martin also claims that the doctrine of the immortality of the soul is not found in the Bible and that the New Testament does not teach that souls go to be with Jesus after death. This, however, is nonsense. Paul says in Philippians 1:23-24 “My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account.” Jesus says to the thief on the cross, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43). The alternative reading of that text, which puts the comma after “today” (i.e. “I say to you today…”) is possible but unlikely since that construction is not found anywhere else in the New Testament. The parable of the rich man in Lazarus in Luke 16 also seems to indicate a conscious experience post-death. Even though the story is a parable, parables reflect actual real-life scenarios. There are no other parables in the gospels where Jesus literally invents a fantasy world which does not reflect actual realities. 

Dr. Martin then went on to claim that the book of Acts reads like a Greek romance novel. This is material straight out of the late Westar Institute fellow Richard Pervo, who was, to be candid, a fringe scholar. Craig Keener, who is arguably the world’s leading authority on the book of Acts, comments[1],

“In the end, most scholars reject the characterization of Acts as a novel. Ancient readers knew the genre of the novel but, in the overwhelming majority of cases, could distinguish between the narrative genres of history (where facts are important to the genre) and novel (where they are not). Even when historical works have incorrect facts, they do not become fiction, and a novel that depends on historical information does not become history; what distinguishes the two genres is the nature of their truth claims. Yet Acts is certainly entertaining history, recounting ‘a dramatic and absorbing story.’ The literary public was not large enough for political and other historians to gain an audience by simply recounting bare events. ‘The historian therefore had to recount in lively fashion events beyond his reach, and qualify ethically the personalities involved.’”

The fact of the matter is that the book of Acts is spectacularly well supported by extrabiblical corroborating evidence (one could give more than a hundred examples lifted from works by Craig Keener, Colin Hemer, James Smith, and others).[2] It is also supported by dozens of undesigned coincidences with the letters of Paul (indeed, one could adduce more than forty examples if one were limited to using only Romans, 1 & 2 Corinthians, and Galatians, never mind the numerous examples found in the other epistles).[3] There are also unexplained allusions (such as Acts 18:18), which further support historicity. For further discussion of this subject, I refer readers to Tim McGrew’s excellent lecture on the reliability of Acts, as well as the discussion I had on the same subject with Craig Keener (see also the interview I did with Wesley Huff on the evidence for the historical trustworthiness of Acts). I have also discussed this subject in detail elsewhere on this website (e.g. see herehere, and here), so I need not repeat myself in this article. Furthermore, the best way of interpreting the “we” passages in Acts 16:10ff as indicating that the author was a travelling companion of Paul. Besides the clear inside-knowledge that is demonstrated by the author of Acts throughout his volume, the “we” passages trail off in Acts 16 when Paul is in Philippi and then begin again in Acts 20 when Paul returns back through Philippi (strongly suggesting that the author had remained in Philippi and rejoined Paul when Paul returned through Philippi).[4]

Dr. Martin then claims that Paul was not considered to be an apostle by the guy who wrote the book of Acts. However, the author of Acts does indeed identify Paul as an apostle, since he refers to “the apostles Barnabas and Paul,” (Acts 14:14). Even without that reference, however, it would not demonstrate that Luke did not view Paul as an apostle, since Luke does not say anything to the contrary. And Paul implies in his letters that the Jerusalem leaders recognized Paul as an apostle (e.g. Galatians 2:7). Luke was present with Paul when he met with the Jerusalem leaders, including James, in Acts 21.

Dr. Martin also claims that the epistle to the Hebrews (which he correctly recognizes is more like a homily) is not addressed to Jews but is addressed to gentiles. This too is indefensible. The whole point in Hebrews is that the author is explaining the superiority of the new covenant over the old because the audience to whom the homily is addressed are in danger of going back to their former ways of Judaism. Even the opening verse of the book of Hebrews suggests that the intended audience is fellow Jews: “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets.” The book also presupposes certain things that the author can take for granted would be familiar to a Jewish audience, but which he cannot take for granted to have been familiar to a gentile audience.

Dr. Martin further asserts that the New Testament books were written between the year 50 and the year 150 A.D. One has to wonder what book(s) Dr. Martin thinks were written as late as 150? It seems unlikely to me that any of the books were written later than the close of the first century, and I am not aware of any contemporary scholars who would date any of the New Testament books that late. At the very least, Martin’s view here is extremely out-dated. Though it was once thought by the Tubingen school that the gospel of John was composed towards the latter end of the second century, this view has now been universally abandoned, in part due to the discovery in 1934 of the John Rylands fragment, p52, a small fragment of the gospel of John that may be dated to, give or take, 125–175 A.D.

It is quite disappointing to see a scholar of Dale Martin’s caliber mislead his students in regards to the text of the New Testament. If this lecture is representative of what freshman students are being told at institutions of higher learning such as Yale, Duke, or Harvard, then it is no wonder that so many young people are falling away from the faith. Now, to be fair, I am also aware of misleading and factually inaccurate statements being made at evangelical seminaries as well, so this problem is not unique to secular institutions. However, this does teach us how imperative it is that students, no matter what institution of higher learning they attend, when it comes to worldview-sensitive subjects such as New Testament studies or philosophy of religion, should always do their own fact-checking and not take the word of their professor at face-value. It also reveals how important it is for parents to equip their children with a robust, though balanced, education of their own in regards to the Bible in order to adequately equip them for the intellectual challenges they will face in college.

Footnotes

[1] Craig Keener, Acts: An Exegetical Commentary, Vol. 1 (Michigan: Baker Academic, 2012), 431, 80–81.

[2] Craig S. Keener, Acts: An Exegetical Commentary, Vols 1-4 (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2012–2014). Colin J. Hemer, The Book of Acts in the Setting of Hellenistic History, ed. Conrad H. Gempf (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1990). James Smith, The Voyage and Shipwreck of St. Paul: With Dissertations on the Life and Writings of St. Luke, and the Ships and Navigation of the Ancients, ed. Walter E. Smith, Fourth Edition, Revised and Corrected. (London: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1880).

[3] 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). Lydia McGrew, Hidden in Plain View: Undesigned Coincidences in the Gospels and Acts (Tampa, FL: Deward Publishing Company, Ltd, 2017)

[4] Craig Keener, Acts: An Exegetical Commentary, Vol. 1 (Michigan: Baker Academic, 2012), 431.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

I Don’t Have Enough Faith to Be an Atheist (Paperback), and (Sermon) by Norman Geisler and Frank Turek 

Stealing From God by Dr. Frank Turek (Book, 10-Part DVD Set, STUDENT Study Guide, TEACHER Study Guide)

Fearless Generation – Complete DVD Series, Complete mp4 Series (download) by Mike Adams, Frank Turek, and J. Warner Wallace

So the Next Generation will Know by J. Warner Wallace (Book and Participant’s Guide)

 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

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/8Q6Jipt

 

It is one of the most iconic incidents in Jesus’ life. We are all familiar with the famous story of Jesus miraculously feeding the five thousand from five loaves and two fish, with no fewer than twelve basketfuls of leftovers. The story is recounted by all four gospel writers: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. But just how historical is this story? In this article, I attempt to highlight several lines of evidence which, when taken as a cumulative whole, strongly suggest that these reports are rooted in a real historical event. I attempt to show this by virtue of appeal to undesigned coincidences, reconcilable variations, and other telltale markers of independence and verisimilitude. What I hope to demonstrate is that the feeding of the five thousand is the second-best attested New Testament miracle, after the resurrection of Jesus. For many of the insights that follow, I am indebted to my friend and colleague Dr. Lydia McGrew, both through her writing, and through her direction towards Christian authors from times past (such as Paley, Blunt, and Birks) who identified many of these hallmarks of verisimilitude in the gospel accounts.

Undesigned Coincidences Relating to the Feeding of the Five Thousand

An undesigned coincidence occurs when you have two or more accounts that casually interlock in a way that points to the truth of both. In its most classic form, one account of an event may raise a natural question that is answered incidentally and casually by the other. Much like a puzzle, it fits like a hand into a glove. This is not at all the type of pattern that one would expect to see in the event of some kind of conspiratorial manufacturing of the story. When taken as a cumulative argument — many instances considered collectively — one has a powerful argument for the overall general reliability and integrity of the gospel narratives. I will now offer a handful of examples pertaining to the feeding of the five thousand narratives.

The Role of Philip

In John 6:1-7, we are told:

Some time after this, Jesus crossed to the far shore of the Sea of Galilee (that is, the Sea of Tiberias), and a great crowd of people followed him because they saw the signs he had performed by healing the sick. Then Jesus went up on a mountainside and sat down with his disciples. The Jewish Passover Festival was near. When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, “Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?” He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do. Philip answered him, “It would take more than half a year’s wages to buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!”

Now, Philip is a fairly minor character in the New Testament. And one might, naturally, be inclined to wonder why Jesus hasn’t turned to someone a little higher in the pecking order (such as Peter or John). Perhaps even Judas Iscariot would have been a more suitable choice for this role in the account since John informs us elsewhere that he was responsible for the money bag (Jn 13:29).

A partial clue is provided in John 1:44: “Philip, like Andrew and Peter, was from the town of Bethsaida.” Likewise, John 12:21 refers to “Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee.” What is so significant about Philip being from the town of Bethsaida? We don’t learn this until we read the parallel account in Luke’s gospel (9:10-17). At the opening of the account (verses 10-11), we are told,

“When the apostles returned, they reported to Jesus what they had done. Then he took them with him and they withdrew by themselves to a town called Bethsaida, but the crowds learned about it and followed him. He welcomed them and spoke to them about the kingdom of God, and healed those who needed healing.”

And so, we are informed by Luke (who does not mention Philip in this context at all) that the event was actually taking place in Bethsaida — the town from which Philip was from! Jesus thus turns to Philip, whom, he believed, would be familiar with the area. This also perhaps illuminates the involvement of Andrew (who was also from Bethsaida — Jn 1:44) in the reply. Andrew says to Jesus in John 6:9, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are they for so many?” One may conjecture that Andrew, being from Bethsaida where this miracle took place, knew the boy, or perhaps Jesus had directed his question to Philip and Andrew, both of whom were locals.

The reason for Jesus addressing Philip in John 6:5 is never explicitly spelled out in the text. Instead, one has to do the detective work of piecing together the clues drawn from John 6:5; John 12:21 (and 1:44); and Luke 9:10-17. This is precisely the sort of casual connection between accounts that one might expect to see in historical reportage, though it is more surprising given the hypothesis of fictionalization.

The Green Grass, and the Coming and Going Crowds

Curiously, Mark’s narrative describes the people as sitting down in groups on “the green grass” (verse 39). This is significant, not because Mark mentions people sitting on the grass (Matthew 14:19 also records people sitting “down on the grass”, and Luke 9:15 reports that “everyone sat down”, and John 6:10 notes that “There was plenty of grass in that place, and they sat down.”). It is significant because Mark reports that the grass was “green”. This is particularly intriguing when one considers that, in Israel (particularly in Galilee) the grass is brown!

What makes this even more intriguing is that Mark’s gospel (6:30-42) also states, in verses 30-31 that,

The apostles gathered around Jesus and reported to him all they had done and taught. Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.

Mark casually alludes to there being many people coming and going, indicating the hustle and bustle and general business of the area during this time. But why were there many coming and going? Mark does not tell us. In John’s account, however (6:4), we are told that “The Jewish Passover Festival was near.” This explains why many people were “coming and going.” Moreover, during the season of the Passover (i.e. in the springtime), there is a small window where the grass is indeed green in that area, due to elevated levels of rainfall. When this is coupled with the detail given to us by John that the Passover festival was at hand, this illuminates and makes sense of the casual (but surprising) statements in Mark that the grass was green and that people were coming and going.

Counting the Number of People

A question that arises when one reads the accounts of the feeding of the five thousand is how the evangelists knew the number of people. Matthew’s account emphasizes that this number specifically refers to men: “And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children” (Mt 14:21). Mark 6:44, Luke 9:14, and John 6:10 also indicate that it was five thousand men who were fed (though the phrase “besides women and children” is unique to Matthew). But how was this number estimated? According to Mark 6:39-40, “Then he commanded them all to sit down in groups on the green grass. So they sat down in groups, by hundreds and by fifties.” Likewise, Luke 9:14-15 indicates that “he said to his disciples, ‘Have them sit down in groups of about fifty each.’ And they did so, and had them all sit down.’” Having the people organized into groups would have doubtless made it easier to distribute the food, and it would also provide a means of arriving at an estimate of their number.

How, though, were the evangelists able to determine that there were five thousand men specifically, besides women and children? John’s gospel, which omits mention of the organization of the people into groups, provides an important clue. In John 6:10-11, we are told, “Jesus said, ‘Have the people sit down.’ Now there was much grass in the place. So the men sat down, about five thousand in number. Jesus then took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated. So also the fish, as much as they wanted.” Thus, like Mark and Luke, John informs us that Jesus told the disciples to have the people sit down in groups. However, John uniquely tells us that it was the men who in fact sat down. This, then, illuminates, in a casual and incidental way, how the number of men could be reliably estimated.

Denouncing the Unrepentant Cities

In Matthew 11:21, Jesus denounces the unrepentant cities, saying, “Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the miracles that were performed in you had been performed in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes.” The reader is left wondering what miracles were performed in these cities. We are not told in Matthew’s gospel. It is only in light of Luke’s account of the feeding of the five thousand (chapter 9), in which we are told of the event’s occurrence in Bethsaida, that this statement begins to make sense. Although Matthew 14:13-21 does narrate the feeding of the five thousand, no mention is made of Bethsaida. Furthermore, Matthew, who often arranged his material thematically rather than chronologically, gives his account of the feeding of the five thousand some three chapters subsequent to the pronouncement of woe upon Bethsaida. Only by comparing the account in Luke do we discover that the feeding of the five thousand in fact transpired before the woes were pronounced by Jesus upon Bethsaida.

Strikingly, not only is Luke’s mention of Bethsaida as the location of the feeding found in a different context from the woes; it is found in an apparently unrelated context — that is, the pericope in which it occurs has absolutely nothing to do with the feeding of the five thousand. Jesus simply refers generally to the mighty deeds performed in Chorazin and Bethsaida. There is nothing in the immediate context to suggest that Jesus is making an allusion to the feeding of the five thousand. Indeed, the fact that Matthew contains no information about any miracle performed in Chorazin undermines the idea that the reason Luke mentions Bethsaida as the setting of the feeding of the five thousand miracle is to fill in the missing information in relation to Jesus’ statement in Matthew 11:21.

The Messianic Secret

Throughout the synoptic accounts, Jesus often sternly warns people not to publicly disclose His identity. 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.

Eating Jesus’ Flesh and Drinking His Blood?

Another coincidence pertains to Jesus’ statements, prompted by the episode of the feeding of the five thousand, in John 6:51-58:

I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh […] Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like the bread the fathers ate, and died. Whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.

These words of Jesus, in my judgment, are especially likely to be authentic for at least three different reasons. First, particularly given the Jewish context (recall that the fourth gospel, in which these sayings uniquely are found, was evidently authored by a Jew), this is an exceedingly unlikely thing for the author to make up out of whole cloth. In fact, many of Jesus’ followers, in verse 60, said “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” Verse 66 further indicates that “After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him.” Second, Jesus’ allusion to the loaves that the crowd had eaten (see verse 26), as the basis of his teaching is in keeping with Jesus’ consistent habit across all four gospels (and across diverse episodes) of drawing lessons from his surroundings and from the occasion (this is an instance of what I call “artless similarities”, which I have discussed in more detail in this article). Third, these sayings are supported by an undesigned coincidence. Jesus’ language in this passage (which is found only in John, and not in the Synoptics) is strikingly similar to His institution of the Lord’s supper (which is found in all three of the Synoptics, but not in John). Here are the words of institution, as given by Luke 22:19-20: “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me…This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” Lydia McGrew suggests that[1],

Jesus was speaking of the Lord’s supper in John 6, not in the sense that the crowds were expected to understand this at that time by his teaching, but in the sense that he was alluding cryptically to something that he would make clearer later to those who continued to follow him. This sort of veiled allusion would hardly be uncharacteristic of Jesus’ teaching as we find it elsewhere. For example, his words to Nicodemus about the Holy Spirit in John 3 would not have been clear to Nicodemus at the time but would have become much clearer in the light of Pentecost. The statement, “Destroy this Temple, and in three days I will raise it up” recorded in John 2:19 is glossed by John in hindsight, as referring to the resurrection, but Jesus himself apparently did not explain it at the time.

It is important to remember that the institution of the Lord’s supper is mentioned only in the Synoptics, and Jesus’ strange statements about eating His flesh and drinking His blood is found only in John. McGrew concludes that “he spoke this way in John 6 in anticipation of instituting the Lord’s Supper at the end of his ministry, expecting his followers to put it all together later if they persevered in discipleship (as contrasted with those who fell away in John 6.66-67).”[2]

Other Markers of Verisimilitude

John James Blunt notes the consistent distinction that is maintained between the number and kinds of leftover baskets that were collected in the two events[3]:

[T]here was, no doubt, a marked difference between these two vessels, whatever that difference might be, for κόφινος is invariably used when the miracle of the five thousand is spoken of; and σπυρίς is invariably used when the miracle of the four thousand is spoken of. Moreover, such distinction is clearly suggested to us in Matt. xvi. 9, 10, where our Savior cautions his disciples against the “leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees” and in so doing, alludes to each of these miracles thus: “Do ye not understand, neither remember the five loaves of the five thousand, and how many baskets (κοφίνους) ye took up? Neither the seven loaves of the four thousand, and how many baskets (σπυρίδας) ye took up?” though here, again, the distinction is entirely lose in our translation, both [words] being still rendered “basket” alike.

This distinction between the words used for “basket” (κόφινος vs. σπυρίς) is also maintained in the parallel account of Jesus’ rebuke in Mark 8:19-20.

Blunt concludes[4],

[S]uch uniformity mark[s] very clearly the two miracles to be distinctly impressed on the minds of the Evangelists, as real events; the circumstantial peculiarities of each present to them, even to the shape of the baskets, as though they were themselves actual eyewitnesses; or at least had received their report from those who were so. It is next impossible that such coincidence in both cases, between the fragments and the receptacles, respectively, should have been preserved by chance; or by a teller of a tale at third or fourth hand; and accordingly we see that the coincidence is in fact entirely lost by our translators, who were not witnesses of the miracles; and whose attention did not happen to be drawn to the point.

Interestingly, the same word for basket that is used for the feeding of the four thousand (σπυρίς) is also used of the basket used to lower Saul over the wall in Damascus (Acts 9:25). This suggests that these baskets were quite large, which explains why there were fewer leftover baskets collected for this event (seven compared to the twelve baskets collected after the feeding of the five thousand).

Reconcilable Variations

Another category of evidence bearing on the case for the resurrection is the phenomenon of reconcilable variations, so-named by the nineteenth-century Anglican scholar Thomas Rawson Birks.[5] A reconcilable variation refers to when there exist two accounts of the same event or at least two accounts that appear to cross over the same territory at some point, and at first blush, they seem so divergent that it is almost awkward; but then, on further thought, they turn out to be reconcilable in some natural fashion after all. When two accounts appear at first so divergent that one is not sure they can be reconciled, that is significant evidence for their independence. When they turn out, upon closer inspection or upon learning more information, to be reconcilable without forcing, after all, one has almost certainly independent accounts that dovetail. A few examples pertain to the feeding of the five thousand accounts.

Is Mark Confused About the Location?

According to Luke 9:10, the event of the feeding of the five thousand took place in Bethsaida. However, according to Mark 6:45, following the feeding of the five thousand miracle, Mark tells us,

Immediately he made his disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd.

This presents an apparent discrepancy. If Jesus and the disciples were already in Bethsaida, why does he tell his disciples to get into the boat and go to the other side of the lake, to Bethsaida? At first blush, this certainly seems to be a clear-cut instance of a contradiction between the accounts. The first thing to note is that we have independent confirmation that the event occurred in a deserted area near Bethsaida, based on two of the undesigned coincidences noted above. Thus, there are good historical grounds for believing that the event in fact took place in Bethsaida.

There is yet further confirmation of the location of the miracle as being somewhere “across the top” of the Sea of Galilee from Capernaum. It is Mark himself who says that they didn’t even have leisure to eat before the feeding, because there were “many coming and going” (Mark 6:31), and that they got into the boat to get away from the crowds. That fits well with their being in the region of Capernaum prior to going away. There is still a further undesigned coincidence involved there which connects Mark and John, also discussed above. It was just before the Passover (John 6:4), and there would have been crowds coming through Capernaum, travelling down to Jerusalem. Thus, the picture is well-explained by their going from the Capernaum region (on the top west coat of the Sea of Galilee) across the top of the region around Bethsaida, and then, when they returned “to the other side”, returned to the northwest side. In fact, Mark explicitly says that they landed at Gennesaret when they had crossed over (Mark 6:53)! Thus, this actually, far from contradicting, confirms the idea of which direction they were going. If they were really crossing over “to Bethsaida” as if to land at or near Bethsaida, they couldn’t have landed at Gennesaret! Thus, πρὸς Βηθσαϊδάν, even within Mark itself, cannot be taken to mean that the feeding of the five thousand occurred in a radically different location from the region of Bethsaida named explicitly in Luke and otherwise confirmed by undesigned coincidences. Therefore, there is good reason to believe that the feeding of the five thousand miracle took place in Bethsaida.

This still leaves unanswered the question of what Mark means in 6:45. The Greek text says that the disciples were to enter into the boat and προάγειν εἰς τὸ πέραν πρὸς Βηθσαϊδάν. Lydia McGrew argues that the Greek preposition πρὸς can mean “over against” (or “across from”).[6] However, I am at this point unpersuaded by this translation. While one of the possible meanings of πρὸς is “against” (e.g. Mt 4:6; Mk 12:12; Lk 4:11; 20:19; Acts 6:1; 9:29; 19:38; 23:30; 24:19; 26:14), I have been unable to find any instances, in either the New Testament or the Greek Septuagint, where the preposition unequivocally means geographically “opposite to”, as would be required by McGrew’s interpretation.

Another possibility is that, in going over to the other side (to the Capernaum side) they were going to pass Bethsaida — that is, that the actual location of the feeding was slightly to the east of Bethsaida itself (recall that the event actually took place at a desolate area, in proximity to Bethsaida — Mt 14:13; Mk 6:32; Lk 9:12). Indeed, the stated location of Bethsaida, I would argue, is being used in a regional sense (in the same way that I might say I live in Boston even though technically I live in a suburb of Boston). Hence, when they left in Mark to go to the other side, they could have been going “toward” Bethsaida, which would be a legitimate understanding of the preposition πρὸς.

A yet further option, though incompatible with inerrancy (see my article here for those who are concerned about this), is that Mark’s source, quite plausibly the apostle Peter, misspoke a single word when reporting the event. This is not antecedently implausible. Misspeaking a single word on occasion is something that anyone experienced in public speaking is all too familiar with.

Whatever the actual explanation, this apparent discrepancy points to the literary independence of Mark and Luke.

Mark Goodacre has put forward a theory of “editorial fatigue” in the gospels.[7] Goodacre argues that editorial fatigue is “a phenomenon that will inevitably occur when a writer is heavily dependent on another’s work. In telling the same story as his predecessor, a writer makes changes in the early stages which he is unable to sustain throughout.” [3] Goodacre claims that the best example of this phenomenon pertains to the feeding of the five thousand accounts. He cites Mark 6:35-36 and the parallel in Luke 9:12.

  • Mark 6:35-36: And when it grew late, his disciples came to him and said, “This is a desolate place, and the hour is now late. Send them away to go into the surrounding countryside and villages and buy themselves something to eat.”
  • Luke 9:12: Now the day began to wear away, and the twelve came and said to him, “Send the crowd away to go into the surrounding villages and countryside to find lodging and get provisions, for we are here in a desolate place.”

Goodacre comments,

The adjective used by both Mark and Luke is ερημος, lonely, desolate, abandoned. Clearly it is nonsense to say ‘we are here in a desolate place’ when in the Lucan setting they are not. After all, if the crowd were in a city, they would not need to go to the surrounding villages and countryside to find food and lodging. Further, since in Bethsaida food and lodging ought to be close to hand, Luke’s comment that the day was drawing to a close lacks any relevance and, consequently, the feeding lacks the immediate motive that it has in Mark. In short, by relocating the Feeding of the Five Thousand, without being able to sustain the new setting with its fresh implications throughout, Luke has spoilt the story.

This argument, in my opinion, is exceedingly weak. Goodacre has succeeded in creating a problem where there isn’t one. The disciples’ statement concerning the surrounding places where the people could go to purchase food indicates that the “desolate place” was not far from those surrounding villages and countryside. As stated previously, the stated location of Bethsaida is being used in a regional sense. This is the most natural way of reading Luke’s account. Furthermore, Matthew — which most scholars agree was independent of Luke, though utilizing at times common source material — also indicates that they were in a desolate place (Mt 14:13,15). Furthermore, there is also the independent evidence, discussed above, that the location of the feeding of the five thousand as indicated by Luke is correct.

Where did Jesus first see the crowd?

In Mark’s account, the narrative concerning the feeding of the five thousand begins with the disciples returning from a preaching ministry to tell Jesus “all that they had done and taught” (Mk 6:30). Given the business of the place, Jesus told the disciples to “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.” (v. 31). However, “many saw them going and recognized them, and they ran there on food from all the towns and got there ahead of them,” (v. 33). That the people were able to run on ahead of Jesus on foot and arrive before him fits well with the size of the Sea of Galilee, which is only seven miles wide at its widest point. The people came and met Jesus as he was getting out of the boat. Mark tells us that “When he went ashore he saw a great crowd” (v. 34).

Compare this with the account in John 6. John doesn’t mention the disciples’ preaching ministry and their coming to report to Jesus what they had done and taught. Nor does John report Jesus’ instruction to “come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.” However, John does indicate that Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which John calls by its other name, the Sea of Tiberius (v. 1). According to John, there was a large crowd following Jesus “because they saw the signs that he was doing on the sick” (v. 2). Jesus went up on a mountain and lifted up his eyes and saw the crowd coming toward Him (v. 5). If one were to only read John’s account, one would get the impression that Jesus had gone up to the mountainside with His disciples, and it was only then that He saw the crowd that had been following Him. Note that all four gospels mention the mountain in this region (Mt 14:23; Mk 6:46; Lk 9:28; Jn 6:3). Mark, speaking of the crowd that had followed Jesus, says that Jesus “had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. And he began to teach them many things” (Mk 6:34). In Matthew’s account, we read that “he had compassion on them and healed their sick” (Mt 14:14). In Luke, it mentions both that Jesus “spoke to them of the kingdom of God” and that he “cured those who had need of healing” (Lk 6:11). Thus, we are to picture Jesus having been with the crowd for some time prior to the feeding event. In the synoptics, we are told that when it was getting late, they discussed where to find food for the crowd of people. John, however, does not mention the earlier part of the day. It seems, then, that the crowds converged on him while He had slipped away with His disciples. John’s emphasis, though, is on the feeding through the miraculous multiplication of loaves and fish. The fact that these accounts, which appear upon first blush to contradict one another, fit together so casually reveals the independence of the accounts.

Did Jesus go up the mountain before or after the disciples left in a boat?

A final apparent discrepancy concerns the question of whether Jesus went up into the mountain to escape the crowds and pray following the feeding of the five thousand before or after the disciples left in a boat. John 6:15-16 implies that it was before the disciples left in a boat, whereas Mark 6:45 says that “he made his disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, toward Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd.” The synoptics, however, do not state that Jesus escorted the disciples down to the boat and then went up the mountain. Rather, the gospels simply report that Jesus instructed them to get into the boat and go over to the other side. The instruction could have been given some distance from the shoreline. Indeed, it plausibly could have taken them some time to winnow their way through the crowd and reach the shoreline. Perhaps they could even hear Jesus dismissing the crowds, or Jesus could have informed them of His intentions.

John’s record of events does not in fact conflict with what we read in Mark, if one reads these events as occurring in a somewhat intertwined manner. It is quite conceivable that John’s mind was following the course of Jesus’ actions, and is picturing, as it got dark, the disciples approaching the shore and getting into the boat. That, however, does not entail that Jesus in fact went up the mountain first. Mark (or his source, plausibly Peter), on the other hand, may be thinking of the urgency of Jesus sending them away. If this is the case, then it is not particularly surprising to find the evangelists describing the events in a slightly different order.

Again, this is precisely what one might expect of independent eyewitness accounts.

Other Marks of Independence

In addition to the foregoing, there are also various other marks of independence. Only John mentions the boy, and that they were barley loaves (Jn 6:9), which fits with the time of year, being near the Passover. Only John mentions that it was Andrew who brought the boy forward (Jn 6:8). Only John mentions the other name of the Sea of Galilee (the Sea of Tiberius), a name that we can confirm from other sources (Jn 6:1). Only John records how far the disciples had rowed when they saw Jesus coming towards him, which is given as an imprecise measurement of twenty-five or thirty stadia, or about three or four miles (Jn 6:19). Matthew and Luke both mention that Jesus healed people (Mt 14:14; Lk 6:11), a detail not supplied by Mark. Only Mark mentions that the disciples landed at Gennesaret (Mk 6:53). This fits with the account in John, which says that they set off for Capernaum (Jn 6:17). One could even view this connection as an undesigned coincidence between Mark and John. Matthew alone mentions that the reason for Jesus leaving with His disciples was that Jesus heard about the death of John the Baptist (Mt 14:13). This is at variance, though compatible, with the statement in Mark 6:31 that it was to get away from the crowds that Jesus instructed the disciples to retreat to a desolate area. The disciples, who witnessed the event, would have been able to draw their own conclusions about what had triggered Jesus’ desire to leave for a desolate place. Finally, only Matthew includes the account of Peter’s request that Jesus ask him to walk toward Him on the water (Mt 14:28-31). This reflects Peter’s impulsive nature, a character trait that is consistent across all four gospels and across diverse episodes (see my article on artless similarities for further discussion of the evidential significance of this).

Conclusion

To conclude, I would argue that the feeding of the five thousand event is the second best attested New Testament miracle after the resurrection. This is, in part, because it is attested in all four gospels and the parallel texts show numerous indicators of independence and verisimilitude, including undesigned coincidences and reconcilable variations. Cumulatively, these indicators strongly suggest that the accounts of the feeding of the five thousand are grounded in a genuine historical event in the ministry of Jesus and contribute to the case for the gospels’ overall reliability.

Footnotes

[1] Lydia McGrew, Hidden in Plain View: Undesigned Coincidences in the Gospels and Acts (Tampa, FL: Deward Publishing Company, Ltd, 2017), 42.

[2] Ibid., 43.

[3] John James Blunt, Undesigned Coincidences in the Writings Both of the Old and New Testament: An Argument of Their Veracity (London: John Murray, 1863), 264.

[4] Ibid., 265.

[5] Thomas Rawson Birks, Horae Evangelicae, or The Internal Evidence of the Gospel History (London: Seeleys, 1852). See also Lydia McGrew, The Mirror or the Mask: Liberating the Gospels from Literary Devices (Tampa, FL: Deward Publishing Company, Ltd, 2019), 316–321.

[6] Lydia McGrew, Hidden in Plain View: Undesigned Coincidences in the Gospels and Acts (Tampa, FL: Deward Publishing Company, Ltd, 2017), 22.

[7] Mark Goodacre, “Fatigue in the Synoptics,” New Testament Studies 44 (1998), 45-58.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

Miracles: The Evidence by Frank Turek DVD and Mp4

Two Miracles You Take With You Everywhere You Go by Frank Turek DVD, Mp3 and Mp4

 

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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/RmXCRdC

 

Nearly a year ago, I published a series of three articles in which I reviewed sections of Bart Ehrman’s book Jesus, Interrupted: Revealing the Hidden Contradictions in the Bible (And Why We Don’t Know About Them). If you have not read those articles already, you can find them at the links below:

Why You Should Not Be Intimidated by Bart Ehrman: A Review of Jesus, Interrupted (Part 1)

More Misrepresentations and Distortions by Bart Ehrman: A Review of Jesus, Interrupted (Part 2)

Finding Contradictions Where There Is None: A Review of Jesus, Interrupted (Part 3)

Bart Ehrman was recently interviewed on the atheist MythVision podcast about alleged contradictions in the New Testament. During the course of the discussion, the host Derek Lambert asked Ehrman to comment on my critiques of Jesus, Interrupted (see this time stamp). This is my response to Ehrman’s remarks.

Before I begin my response to Ehrman’s interaction with my comments, I wish to clarify my methodology, since Ehrman misrepresented my views a number of times during the podcast. Indeed, despite confessing to having no prior knowledge of my work, Ehrman apparently felt at liberty to impute to me certain views that I do not in fact hold. In particular, Ehrman insinuated on multiple occasions that I am an inerrantist and a fundamentalist, whereas in reality I am neither an inerrantist, nor a fundamentalist (at least in the sense in which the word is used in popular parlance). I do not believe that it is proper practice to exclude a priori the possibility that the authors of the gospels have made a mistake or that there exists an actual discrepancy between the accounts (see, for instance, this article for a small handful of examples, albeit non-exhaustive, where I think the best explanation is that a gospel author has made a good faith error). Thus, it is not that I think there can be no errors between the gospel accounts. Rather, it is that I do not believe that the vast majority of the examples Ehrman adduces in Jesus, Interrupted are best explained as an actual contradiction, though I remain open to persuasion in principle. With that clarified, I now turn to those examples touched on in Ehrman’s recent interview on the MythVision podcast.

Matthew’s Dual Donkeys 

In Jesus, Interrupted, Bart Ehrman makes the popular claim that Matthew has Jesus riding into Jerusalem seated upon two animals. He states on page 50,

In Matthew, Jesus’ disciples procure two animals for him, a donkey and a colt; they spread their garments over the two of them, and Jesus rode into town straddling them both (Matthew 21:7). It’s an odd image, but Matthew made Jesus fulfil the prophecy of Scripture quite literally.

I pointed out in my previous article that this is not the only way to interpret Matthew’s words, and there is in fact a much more charitable interpretation. Here is the text from Matthew 21:7:

They brought the donkey and the colt and put on them their cloaks, and he sat on them. 

What is the antecedent of “them”? The most plausible antecedent is the cloaks. Matthew is indicating that Jesus sat on the cloaks, not that he sat on both the donkey and the colt.

Bart Ehrman responds by pointing out that the cloaks, according to Matthew, are placed on both animals — that is, both the donkey and the colt. Thus, Ehrman argues, we should understand Jesus to be seated on all of the garments, which are spread across the two animals. However, this is a very uncharitable reading of Matthew. Are we really to think that Matthew envisioned Jesus riding on two animals of different heights like some rodeo showman? If that is really what Matthew meant, surely he would have made himself more explicit, since I doubt that it is the interpretation that Matthew’s original readers would have taken from this verse. It did not even cross my mind until I started reading critical literature on the gospels, despite having read Matthew for years. While the cloaks were placed on the two animals and Jesus is said to have sat on the cloaks, it does not follow that Jesus sat on all of the cloaks. Perhaps there were multiple cloaks on one animal and one cloak on the other.

Furthermore, Ehrman’s interpretation depends on the premise that Matthew misunderstood the Hebrew parallelism, erroneously concluding that Zechariah envisioned two animals instead of just one (Zech 9:9). However, Matthew appears to have been quite conversant in Hebrew. For example, consider this text from Matthew 8:16-17:

16 That evening they brought to him many who were oppressed by demons, and he cast out the spirits with a word and healed all who were sick. 17 This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah: “He took our illnesses and bore our diseases.”

Verse 17 quotes from Isaiah 53:4. It is of note that Matthew does not here quote from the Septuagint, which reads, “He himself bore our sins and was pained because of them.” Matthew’s quotation does not even match the Aramaic Targum, which reads, “Then for our sins he will pray and our iniquities will be forgiven because of him.” Instead, Matthew translates the Hebrew quite literally, highlighting how it is fulfilled in Jesus performing miracles of healing. Matthew’s acquaintance with Hebrew thus make it quite unlikely that he would so grossly misunderstand the parallelism in Zechariah.

In my previous article, I had also pointed out that, since the colt never had been ridden, or even sat upon (as stated by Mark and Luke), its dependence upon its mother is very understandable (as implied by Matthew). The host of the podcast, Derek Lambert, represented this remark as asserting that the colt required some kind of “moral support” from its mother (though this phrase was not used by me). Ehrman ridiculed this idea as though it were something ludicrous. But this has in fact been suggested by many scholars who have written on this text. For example, Richard Thomas France, in his commentary on Matthew, writes[1],

Garments serve as improvised saddle-cloths, placed on both animals, but there is no need to understand thereon (literally ‘on top of them’, where ‘them’ could refer as well to the garments as to the donkeys) as meaning that Jesus rode on both animals in turn. The mother was brought to help to control the colt as Jesus rode on it, and both animals were therefore decked appropriately for the festive occasion.

Craig Keener likewise states that “Colts that had not yet been ridden sometimes accompanied their mothers.”[2]

When was the Temple Curtain Torn?

On page 51-52 of Jesus, Interrupted, Ehrman discusses the ripping of the temple curtain, which happened as Jesus died. Ehrman writes, 

According to Mark’s Gospel, after Jesus breathes his last, the curtain of the Temple is torn in half (15:38)…Luke’s Gospel also indicates that the curtain in the Temple was ripped in half. Oddly enough, it does not rip after Jesus dies but is explicitly said to rip while Jesus is still alive and hanging on the cross (23:45-46).

In my previous review of Ehrman’s arguments, I had pointed out that the Greek conjunction και is temporally non-specific. Although often translated “then” in our English Bibles, a more precise translation would be “and.” It does not necessarily imply that one event happened subsequent to the other.

In response, Ehrman challenged me to produce three examples in Luke’s passion narrative where Luke narrates a sequence of events and uses και but the second event takes place prior to the first. It appears though that Ehrman has misunderstood my argument. I am not saying that Luke intends his readers to understand that the ripping of the temple veil took place after Jesus’ last breath (or that Mark intends his readers to understand that it took place before Jesus’ last breath). Rather, as I noted in my review, the text in both Mark and Luke is consistent with Jesus’ death taking place simultaneously with the ripping of the temple curtain. Could Mark and Luke have been more explicit if that is what they meant? Yes, they could. However, it is quite plausible that Mark and Luke simply did not know the precise sequence of events, knowing only that Jesus had died and that the temple curtain had been observed to have been torn in two, and so they left the precise sequence of events ambiguous.

Jesus’ Miracles in John

The next example Ehrman addresses is my interaction with this alleged discrepancy internal to John’s gospel, which Ehrman discusses on page 8 of Jesus, Interrupted:

Not only are there discrepancies among different books of the Bible, but there are also inconsistencies within some of the books, a problem that historical critics have long ascribed to the fact that Gospel writers used different sources for their accounts, and sometimes these sources, when spliced together, stood at odds with one another. It’s amazing how internal problems like these, if you’re not alerted to them, are so easily passed by when you read the Gospels, but how when someone points them out they seem so obvious. Students often ask me, “Why didn’t I see this before?” For example, in John’s Gospel, Jesus performs his first miracle in chapter 2, when he turns the water into wine (a favorite miracle story on college campuses), and we’re told that “this was the first sign that Jesus did” (John 2:11). Later in that chapter we’re told that Jesus did “many signs” in Jerusalem (John 2:23). And then, in chapter 4, he heals the son of a centurion, and the author says, “This was the second sign that Jesus did” (John 4:54). Huh? One sign, many signs, and then the second sign?

In my previous review of this argument, I pointed out that this objection quickly dissolves upon a closer inspection of the context of these verses. Here are the full verses with the relevant portions highlighted in bold font:

  • John 2:11– “This, the first of his signs, Jesus did at Cana in Galilee.”
  • John 2:23– “Now when he was in Jerusalem at the Passover Feast, many believed in his name when they saw the signs that he was doing.”
  • John 4:54– “This was now the second sign that Jesus did when he had come from Judea to Galilee.”

As can be seen from the above, the first and second signs relate to Jesus’ miracles in Galilee. The many signs between the first and second Galilean signs are performed in Jerusalem.

Ehrman responds by pointing out that whether John contradicts himself depends on how one translates John 4:54. Ehrman proposes that we translate John 4:54 as saying “This is the second sign Jesus did. He did this sign after He came from Cana to Galilee.” Is Ehrman’s proposal a possible interpretation? Yes, it is. But why opt for one possible interpretation over another when the former puts an author into conflict with himself? This is not a charitable way to read literature.

The word ἐλθὼν in John 4:54 is an aorist participle, and I would probably be inclined to translate this verse something along the lines of “Having come from Judea to Galilee, this is the second sign that Jesus did.” However, this translation is quite consistent with my interpretation, namely, that this is the second sign that Jesus performed during his ministry to Galilee. Again, if we have an ambiguous text, the charitable reading is that which comports with what the same author has said elsewhere, not that which puts the author into conflict with his own explicit statements elsewhere.

How Many Women Went to the Tomb? 

The next example addressed by Ehrman concerns the identity of the women who visited the tomb on Easter morning. Here is the original quote (p. 48):

Who actually went to the tomb? Was it Mary alone (John 20:1)? Mary and another Mary (Matthew 28:1)? Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome (Mark 16:1)? Or women who had accompanied Jesus from Galilee to Jerusalem – possibly Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and “other women” (Luke 24:1; see 23:55)?

According to Bart Ehrman, John 20:1 indicates that it was Mary alone who went to the tomb. However, as I pointed out in my earlier article, in verse 2, we read,

So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know (οὐκ οἴδαμεν) where they have laid him.”

The word οἴδαμεν is the first person plural form of οιδα, meaning “to know,” and the word οὐ / οὐκ is an adverb that negates the verb, hence “we do not know.” Thus, Mary’s use of the plural in this verse implies that there were in fact other women who had been present with Mary at the tomb.

Ehrman responds to this observation by noting that my solution does not in fact reconcile the texts, since Matthew, Mark, and Luke do not all say the same thing either. However, Luke indicates explicitly that he has not given us an exhaustive list of the women who were present at the tomb on Easter morning. Luke 24:10 indicates,

Now it was Mary Magdalene and Joanna and Mary the mother of James and the other women with them who told these things to the apostles.

Given that Luke indicates explicitly that his list is not exhaustive, it is very difficult to see how Ehrman can allege a contradiction in regards to which women were present at the tomb.

Ehrman asks why John does not tell the reader who the other women were? However, it is not at all clear to me why it would have been necessary for John to do so. John spotlights Mary Magdalene because she is the one who ran to inform Peter and the disciple whom Jesus loved (very probably the apostle John) about the fact that the body of Jesus was missing. If the fourth gospel is indeed written by John the son of Zebedee (as I maintain), then it would be natural for him to spotlight Mary Magdalene in this role since he was one of the two disciples that Mary Magdalene spoke to following her discovery of the empty tomb.

Ehrman further asks that if one only read through the end of verse 1 of John 20, what would one think had happened so far? Obviously, one would surmise that Mary Magdalene had gone to the tomb. Ehrman’s point here is unclear, however, since John does not stop at verse 1 but includes verse 2 as well. Even if John had not included the subtle allusion to other women in verse 2, it is difficult to see how John contradicts the other gospels since nothing prevents John from spotlighting Mary Magdalene while omitting to mention the other women with her, in particular in view of her role in reporting to Peter and John what she had seen.

Ehrman also argues that an alternative interpretation of the saying “we do not know where they have laid him” is that she had left the tomb and conferred with other people, who likewise did not know where Jesus’ body had been taken. Ehrman objects, “If you want to play that game, you could play it either direction. So, how do we know what one is right?” But this is not how history ought to be done. The reality is that we have not just one biography of Jesus’ life but four biographies, all of which may be shown to be written by individuals who are close up to the facts, well informed, and habitually reliable (see my other articles pertaining to this topic for a detailed discussion of the evidence for this). That being the case, it is legitimate scholarly practice to allow those sources to illuminate and clarify one another, since they are written from multiple perspectives and, although there is evidently a significant level of literary dependence between them (especially the synoptic gospels), there is also information that the authors appear to have independent access to. In the case of interpreting John 20:2, the hypothesis that the others implied in Mary’s statement are the other women at the tomb has a higher prior probability than Ehrman’s proposed interpretation, since we have independent evidence for that scenario, whereas we do not have independent evidence supporting Ehrman’s proposal. Therefore, the interpretation that I offered ought to be the one preferred.

It is also noteworthy that Matthew and Mark appear to be independent of Luke when it comes to the women’s discovery of the empty tomb, as Lydia McGrew has observed.[3] Luke indicates in Luke 8:1-3 that some women followed Jesus from Galilee, including Joanna, the wife of Chuza, Herod’s household manager. This detail is confirmed by an undesigned coincidence with Matthew 14:1, since it illuminates how the author of Matthew’s gospel might know what Herod had said to his servants, presumably in the privacy of his palace. The names given in Luke’s list are Mary, Joanna, and Susanna, as well as “many others,” (Lk 8:2-3). Mark, describing the women who were “looking on from a distance” at the crucifixion, lists “Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salome,” (Mk 14:40). These names overlap only partially with those given in Luke 8. There is no mention in Mark of Joanna or Susanna, and Luke does not mention Mary the mother of James or Salome. It does not appear that Luke added the passage in chapter 8 in order to “put” the women in place earlier in Jesus’ ministry and thus fit his narrative together with Matthew and Mark concerning the women at the cross because the names are only partially the same. Luke would have presumably included Mary the mother of James, and Salome, and probably left out Susanna if he had fictionalized the verses in chapter 8 on the basis of Mark’s mention of the women at the cross. Luke himself mentions the women who came from Galilee at the cross and burial (23:49, 55) but does not even name any of them there. Both accounts, therefore, confirm apparently independently that there was a group of women who had begun following Jesus in Galilee and who continued to do so and who helped Jesus in concrete ways (“ministering” or “providing”).

In Luke 24:6-10, the angels tell the women at the empty tomb, “Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee (v. 6).” This makes it clear that these women really were personally with Jesus in Galilee and heard what He said there. When Luke names various women who brought the disciples news of the empty tomb and the message of the angel (24:10), he names Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Joanna (and says there were other women as well). Once again, he does not seem to be trying to reproduce his own list from chapter 8, for Mary the mother of James was not in that list, and Susanna isn’t mentioned in 24:10. Nor is he reproducing Mark’s list of women at the cross nor Mark’s list of women who came to the tomb (Mk 16:1), since Salome isn’t included in Luke’s list, and Joanna (who is unique to Luke) is not included in Mark’s list. Luke seems to be listing women whom he really knows were present for the events on Easter morning. Evidently, he is not sure about Susanna’s presence or just does not bother to mention her, and he knows that Mary the mother of James was there on Easter morning even though she is not listed in his chapter 8.

Thus, distant parts of Luke’s own narrative fit together in an apparently casual and non-deliberate way — Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and various other women were with Jesus in Galilee and heard there Jesus’ own prediction concerning His crucifixion and resurrection. They therefore subsequently went with him to Jerusalem and were present for the events of the cross, burial, and empty tomb.

Where was Jesus the Day After His Baptism?

On pages 40 and 41 of Jesus, Interrupted, Bart Ehrman, asks where was Jesus the day after he was baptized? He writes, 

In Matthew, Mark, and Luke – the so-called Synoptic Gospels – Jesus, after his baptism, goes off into the wilderness where he will be tempted by the Devil. Mark especially is quite clear about the matter, for he states, after telling of the baptism, that Jesus left “immediately” for the wilderness. What about John? In John there is no account of Jesus being tempted by the Devil in the wilderness. The day after John the Baptist has borne witness to the Spirit descending on Jesus as a dove at baptism (John 1:29-34), he sees Jesus again and declares him to be the Lamb of God (John is explicit, stating that this occurred “the next day”). Jesus then starts gathering his disciples around him (1:35-52) and launches into his public ministry by performing his miracle of turning water into wine. So where was Jesus the next day? It depends on which Gospel you read.

As I pointed out previously, John does not narrate the baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist in the Jordan. Rather, John merely says, 

And John bore witness, “I saw the Spirit descend from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. I myself did not know him, but he who sent me to baptize with water said to me, “He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain, this is he who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.” And I have seen and have borne witness that this is the Son of God.

This, then, is not the baptism narrative itself but rather John giving testimony to what had happened on an earlier occasion.

In response to my comments, Ehrman points out that you have to start with John 1:29 where the passage begins. It begins with the phrase “on the next day.” Ehrman notes that the next day is in relationship to the day when John the Baptist was speaking (v. 23). It must therefore be taken to be narrating a sequence of events. There is no disagreement there. However, Ehrman appears to have once again misunderstood the argument. I am not contesting that the “next day” of verse 29 stands in relationship to the day when John the Baptist was speaking. Rather, my point is that it is not at all necessary to take verse 23 as pertaining to the event of Jesus’ baptism itself. Rather, John is alluding to what had taken place on a previous occasion. Thus, there is no need to posit a discrepancy in this text.

Does Acts Contradict Paul Regarding His Visit to Jerusalem?

The next example Ehrman addresses is an alleged discrepancy between Acts and the Pauline corpus. The apostle Paul writes, in Galatians 1:16-20:

I did not immediately consult with anyone; 17 nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were apostles before me, but I went away into Arabia, and returned again to Damascus. 18 Then after three years I went up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas and remained with him fifteen days. 19 But I saw none of the other apostles except James the Lord’s brother. 20 (In what I am writing to you, before God, I do not lie!) 

Ehrman writes in Jesus, Interrupted (p. 55),

This emphatic statement that Paul is not lying should give us pause. He is completely clear. He did not consult with others after his conversion, did not see any of the apostles for three years, and even then he did not see any except Cephas (Peter) and Jesus’ brother James. This makes the account found in the book of Acts very interesting indeed. For according to Acts 9, immediately after Paul converted he spent some time in Damascus “with the disciples”, and when he left the city, he headed directly to Jerusalem, where he met with he apostles of Jesus (Acts 9:19-30). On all counts Acts seems to be at odds with Paul. Did he spend time with other Christians immediately (Acts) or not (Paul)? Did he go straight to Jerusalem (Acts) or not (Paul)? Did he meet with the group of apostles (Acts) or just with Peter and James (Paul)? 

Here is the key text from Acts 9:23-25:

When many days had passed, the Jews plotted to kill him, but their plot became known to Saul. They were watching the gates day and night in order to kill him, but his disciples took him by night and let him down through an opening in the wall, lowering him in a basket.

How long a period of time is denoted by “…many days…” (literally, “sufficient days” — ἡμέραι ἱκαναί)? I noted in my previous article that in 1 Kings 2:38-39, the expression “many days” in Hebrew is immediately glossed as three years:

38 And Shimei said to the king, “What you say is good; as my lord the king has said, so will your servant do.” So Shimei lived in Jerusalem many days. 39 But it happened at the end of three years that two of Shimei’s servants ran away to Achish, son of Maacah, king of Gath. And when it was told Shimei, “Behold, your servants are in Gath,”

I also noted that, although Luke is silent regarding Paul’s trip to Arabia, this trip may be placed within the “many days” of Acts 9:23. Paul also informs us in Galatians 1:17 that he “returned again to Damascus” — thus, it is not surprising that his subsequent trip to Jerusalem is from Damascus.

Ehrman mistakenly took my argument as having to do with the wording in the Septuagint Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible (despite the fact that my article had explicitly referred to the wording of the Hebrew text). Ehrman thus objected that the Septuagint is a translation done centuries after the Hebrew text was written, and not written by the author of 1 Kings. Ehrman compared this to translating a verse from the Greek New Testament and then using the translation to prove what the author meant. In fact, the Septuagint text says τρία ἔτη (“three years”), not ἡμέραι ἱκαναί (“many days”), which is what the Hebrew text says (יָמִ֥ים רַבִּֽים). My view is that the expression “many days” was likely an idiomatic expression, meaning a significant period of time of unspecified duration.

The host Derek Lambert noted that Luke uses this same expression when describing Paul’s voyage in Acts 27:7, where he cannot mean a period of three years:

We sailed slowly for a number of days and arrived with difficulty off Cnidus, and as the wind did not allow us to go farther, we sailed under the lee of Crete off Salmone.

However, it is not my position that the expression ἡμέραι ἱκαναί means a period of three years. Rather, the phrase denotes a significant period of time of unspecified duration. It is also an admissible reading of Paul that his sojourn in Arabia was not for three full years but for one complete year and part of two others, and it seems quite difficult to argue strongly that Luke’s use of the expression “many days” cannot denote a period that long.

Could Luke have made himself more explicit? Absolutely, he could. But it is possible that Luke simply did not know precisely how long transpired between Paul arriving in Damascus and his escape from the Jews who plotted to kill him, and so he deliberately chose to utilize a vague expression. Luke may also not have even been aware of Paul’s journey to Arabia, or he may not have considered it of sufficient relevance to include.

Ehrman claims that if three years transpired during those “many days” in Acts 9:23, the chronology of Acts does not work anymore. I would be very interested in hearing Ehrman’s argument for this since I cannot identify any chronological issues that arise on this interpretation.

Ehrman also claims that my approach misses the point of Acts (which says that Paul went to Jerusalem right away to meet with the apostles) and also misses the point of Galatians (which says that Paul did not immediately go to Jerusalem to meet those who were apostles before him). I agree with Ehrman about Paul’s intent in his epistle to the Galatians. I am not convinced by Ehrman’s interpretation of Luke’s intent in Acts, for the reasons stated above.

Does Acts Contradict Paul on the Number of Jerusalem Visits?

According to Jesus, Interrupted, Paul’s own words in Galatians contradicts the book of Acts in regards to the number of visits Paul made to Jerusalem. Ehrman writes on page 57, 

According to Paul’s account, [the Jerusalem council] was only the second time he had been to Jerusalem (Galatians 1:18; 2:1). According to Acts, it was his third, prolonged trip there (Acts 9, 11, 15). Once again, it appears that the author of Acts has confused some of Paul’s itinerary – possibly intentionally, for his own purposes. 

As I noted in my previous article, Galatians does not say that at all. Paul writes in Galatians 1:18-19, 

18 Then after three years I went up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas and remained with him fifteen days. 19 But I saw none of the other apostles except James the Lord’s brother.

That would be Paul’s first trip to Jerusalem following his conversion. In Galatians 2:1, Paul writes,

Then after fourteen years I went up again to Jerusalem with Barnabas, taking Titus along with me. 

Where does the text say that this was only Paul’s second visit to Jerusalem? In fact, we learn from Acts 11 that between those two journeys Paul had gone to Jerusalem to bring aid to the saints affected by a famine. There would have been no purpose in Galatians for Paul to have mentioned this trip, as it did not relate to conferring with the apostles about the gospel he was preaching.

Ehrman responds by asserting that, in context, Paul is trying to convey that he did not spend much time in Jerusalem and that he got his gospel from Jesus himself, not the other apostles. Ehrman believes it to be inconceivable that Paul would have gone to Jerusalem and not looked up the apostles. Paul does note in verse 20, referring to the fact that he saw none of the other apostles, except the Lord’s brother James, “In what I am writing to you, before God, I do not lie!” The purpose of Paul’s emphatic statement that he is not lying is probably to underscore the fact that his gospel has not been received second-hand, nor is it subordinate to that of the Jerusalem apostles. The reality, however, is that we simply do not know what interaction, if any, Paul may have had with the Jerusalem apostles in Jerusalem in Acts 11, since Luke does not inform us. To make historical judgments on the basis of what one asserts Paul would have done is to do a priori history. Paul’s visit to Jerusalem seems to have been primarily for the purpose of delivering financial aid to the brothers in Jerusalem, in the wake of the famine that took place during the time of Claudius. For whatever reason, Paul apparently did not think that visit to be worth mentioning in his letter to the Galatians. However, Galatians does not contradict Paul’s letter on this score, and it seems unlikely, given Luke’s track record as a meticulous historian, that he would invent Paul’s journey to Jerusalem to deliver relief to the believers there.

Ehrman also asserts that Paul’s collection was at the end of his life (c.f. Romans 15:25-27), not right at the beginning of his ministry. However, I would argue that there are in fact two instances when Paul delivers financial aid to the saints in Jerusalem. In fact, Acts agrees quite well with the order of travel that we would deduce from the Pauline epistles, on his way to deliver the funds to Jerusalem — even though Acts does not explicitly mention fund-raising as the purpose of Paul’s travels. Indeed, in Acts 19:21, we read, “After all this had happened, Paul decided to go to Jerusalem, passing through Macedonia and Achaia. ‘After I have been there,’ he said, ‘I must visit Rome also.’” Paul’s intention to visit Rome is also attested to by Paul’s own words in Romans 15:22-28. Furthermore, according to Acts 20:1, Paul left Ephusus, following the riot, and travelled through Macedonia (which coincides with Paul’s traveling through Troas, alluded to in 2 Corinthians 2:12). Acts also indicates that Paul eventually came to Greece, where he resided for three months (Acts 20:3a), and was intending to leave for Syria (Acts 20:3b).

There are independent grounds for thinking that Paul wrote 1 Corinthians towards the end of his Ephesian stay (around Acts 19:22). When Paul wrote 1 Corinthians, he was urging the Corinthians to be prepared with their collection (1 Cor 16:1-4). It may also be established that 2 Corinthians was written while Paul was in Macedonia (around Acts 20:1-2). Paul again mentions the collection, which he just picked up from Macedonia, in 2 Corinthians 9:1-5. The epistle to Romans was probably written towards the end of the three months that Paul resided in Greece (Acts 20:3). All of those conclusions about when those letters were written are made on the basis of clues that relate to the collection that Paul was making for the saints in Jerusalem, which is not mentioned by Acts. Acts 20:1-3 also indicates that Paul had to return to Jerusalem overland, following a plot that was made against him (see Acts 20-21 for the details of Paul’s route). Paul eventually arrived in Jerusalem and had a meeting with the Jerusalem elders (Acts 21:17ff). Paul subsequently was taken into Roman custody and imprisoned (Acts 21:27ff). When making his defense before the governor Felix, Paul makes a very indirect reference to the Jerusalem collection: “Now after several years, I came to bring alms to my nation and to present offerings,” (Acts 24:17). The undesignedness of the allusions to this collection and the itinerary in Acts in fact serves to confirm the account in Acts. William Paley (1743-1805) summarizes the case[4]:

Here therefore, at length, but fetched from three different writings, we have obtained the several circumstances we inquired after, and which the Epistle to the Romans brings together, viz. a contribution in Achaia for the Christians of Jerusalem; a contribution in Macedonia for the same; and an approaching journey of St. Paul to Jerusalem. We have these circumstances—each by some hint in the passage in which it is mentioned, or by the date of the writing in which the passage occurs—fixed to a particular time; and we have that time turning out upon examination, to be in all the same: namely, towards the close of St. Paul’s second visit to the peninsula of Greece. This is an instance of conformity beyond the possibility, I will venture to say, of random writing to produce; I also assert, that it is in the highest degree improbable that it should have been the effect of contrivance and design.

It seems, then, that there were in fact two occasions in which Paul brought a monetary collection to the Jerusalem saints. One of those was a collection received from the disciples in Antioch following the famine during the reign of Claudius and delivered by the hand of Barnabas and Saul (Acts 11:29-30). The other was received from the churches in Macedonia and Achaia.

The Original Reading of Luke 3:22 

Another example Ehrman addresses is my remarks concerning Ehrman’s assertion on pages 39-40 of Jesus, Interrupted that what the voice at Jesus’ baptism said: “depends on which account you read.” Though this was in fact the first example addressed by Ehrman in the podcast, I have saved my response to this one till last, since this one is slightly more technical than the others. In Jesus, Interrupted, Ehrman writes,

In Matthew it says, “This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased.” The voice appears to be speaking to the people around Jesus, or possibly to John the Baptist, informing them who Jesus is. In Mark, however, the voice says, ‘You are my son, in whom I am well pleased.’ In this case the voice appears to be speaking directly to Jesus, telling him, or confirming to him, who he really is. In Luke, we have something different (this is a bit complicated, because different manuscripts of Luke’s Gospel give the voice different words. I am taking here the original wording of the verse as found in some older manuscripts of the Bible, even though it is not found in most English translations). Here the voice says, “You are my son, today I have begotten you” (3:22), quoting the words of Psalm 2:7).

In my previous article, I noted that the reading “You are my son, today I have begotten you” in Luke, quoting Psalm 2:7, is only found in a single Greek manuscript (although it is also found in several Latin manuscripts and quotations by church fathers). Most textual scholars argue that this is a non-original reading. For instance, Bruce Metzger writes[5]

The Western reading, “This day I have begotten thee,” which was widely current during the first three centuries, appears to be secondary, derived from Ps 2:7.  

Ehrman responds by asking me to address his argumentation for favoring this reading in his scholarly book The Orthodox Corruption of Scripture[6]. However, it is still problematic that Ehrman fails to inform his readers of Jesus, Interrupted that the reading he gives is very highly contested, and the view that Ehrman takes on this point is fringe. When representing a viewpoint that is considered a fringe position in scholarship to a popular audience, one has a duty, or so I would argue, to disclose to the readers that one is adopting an extremely minority position. Nonetheless, I will offer a brief discussion of Ehrman’s argument here.

Ehrman correctly recognizes that the textual variant in question occurs, in terms of Greek witnesses, only in codex Bezae. Although scholars generally do not take a reading to be original that occurs only in Bezae, in The Orthodox Corruption of Scripture Ehrman suggests that “orthodox scribes who could not abide [the text’s] adoptionistic overtones ‘corrected’ it into conformity with the parallel in Mark, ‘You are my beloved Son, in you I am well pleased’ (Mark 1:11),” (p. 62). Ehrman is of course correct that the reading found in Bezae may have offended later scribes due to its potential adoptionist undertones. However, as Tommy Wasserman notes[7],

…the argument can be turned around: the harmonization to Ps 2:7 in some witnesses may ultimately derive from an apocryphal source (from adoptionistic circles), in which the story was modified to include the full citation of Ps 2:7. As in Matt 3:15, this extra-canonical source affected some corners of the New Testament textual tradition. 

In support of his preferred reading, Ehrman notes correctly that attestation can be found in various external sources. Those include Justin Martyr, Clement of Alexandria, Origen, Methodius, the Gospel according to the Hebrews, the Gospel according to the Ebionites, and the Didascalia. However, the evidential value of those sources in confirming Ehrman’s preferred reading is uncertain, since it is difficult to discern precisely what source(s) these writers were dependent on, and it is plausible that some features of these texts may be derivative from apocryphal sources. For example, the attestation in Justin Martyr may be found in Dialogue with Trypho chapter 88, though that same chapter mentions that, following Jesus’ descent into the water, “a fire was kindled in the Jordan.” Ehrman suggests that there is little doubt that Justin Martyr is alluding to Luke’s account because Justin writes that the Holy Spirit descended on Jesus in the form (εἴδει) of a dove, and this word is unique to Luke (footnote 87; p. 99). Tommy Wasserman, however, argues “that Justin or someone else before him has harmonized several sources to include synoptic as well as apocryphal elements.”[8]

Ehrman’s appeal to Origen as supporting his argument is quite misleading. Here is the relevant text (Orig., Comm. Jo. 1.32):

None of these testimonies, however, sets forth distinctly the Saviour’s exalted birth; but when the words are addressed to Him, “Thou art My Son, this day have I begotten Thee,” this is spoken to Him by God, with whom all time is to-day, for there is no evening with God, as I consider, and there is no morning, nothing but time that stretches out, along with His unbeginning and unseen life. The day is to-day with Him in which the Son was begotten, and thus the beginning of His birth is not found, as neither is the day of it.

It is not at all obvious that this text is referring to Jesus’ baptism. It could as well be alluding to Hebrews 1:5, which says, “For to which of the angels did God ever say, ‘You are my Son, today I have begotten you?” It could also be alluding to Hebrews 5:5, in which we read, “So also Christ did not exalt himself to be made a high priest, but was appointed by him who said to him, ‘You are my Son, today I have begotten you.’” It should, however, be admitted that Justin Martyr, Clement of Alexandria, the Gospel according to the Hebrews, the Gospel according to the Ebionites, and the Didascalia do explicitly connect Psalm 2:7 with Jesus’ baptism.

In regards to transcriptional probabilities, Ehrman notes that both readings can be interpreted as scribal harmonizations — either to Psalm 2:7 or to Mark 1:11 (p. 63). Ehrman suggests that it is more probable that a scribe would harmonize a passage such that it aligns with a parallel gospel account than with an Old Testament text. It is noteworthy, however, that scribal harmonization is a characteristic of Western witnesses, whereas they are found much more infrequently in Alexandrian witnesses. The variant reading under discussion here is primarily attested by Western witnesses. Interestingly, in Acts 13:33, which quotes Psalm 2:7, Bezae expands the quotation to include Psalm 2:8 as well.

Joseph Fitzmyer, in what is perhaps the best academic commentary on the gospel of Luke, notes that[9],

…despite the importance of Codex Bezae, that is not the best-attested reading; moreover, the similarity of wording between the more common reading (sy ei ho huios mou) and the Greek of Ps 2:7 (huios mou ei sy) was more likely the reason why scribes familiar with the Greek Psalter would have substituted this quotation, derived from a psalm often interpreted in the early Christian centuries as “messianic.” If the quotation of Ps 2:7 were authentic, the heavenly voice would be declaring Jesus to be God’s Son, relating him specifically to the royal, Davidic tradition of Israel. This would, indeed, suit Lucan theology in one sense. But it would be the only place in the NT in which Ps 2:7 would be applied to some event in the career of Jesus other than the resurrection. For it is otherwise used only of the risen Christ (see Acts 13:33; Heb 1:5; 5:5; cf. Rom 1:4).

My own view is that, while Ehrman’s preferred reading does have some plausibility, the balance of probabilities still tends to favor the reading found in the majority of English translations.

I should note at this point that, in their discussion of my remarks concerning this issue in my previous article, the podcast host, Derek Lambert, identified an accidental (but nonetheless important) typographical error in my article. In the quotation from Jesus, Interrupted (reproduced at the beginning of this section), which I had transcribed by hand, I had mistakenly skipped a line. Instead of transcribing Ehrman’s words as “I am taking here the original wording of the verse as found in some older manuscripts of the Bible, even though it is not found in most English translations),” (note the repetition of the word “found”; emphasis mine), my eye had skipped the words between the two “founds”, instead writing “I am taking here the original wording of the verse as found in most English translations).” I regret that I did not catch this while reading through my article before publication and I would like to apologize to Dr. Ehrman for this unfortunate mistake. It has since been corrected. This is in fact a very well documented cause of common scribal errors in ancient manuscripts, known as homeoteleuton (from the Greek, ὁμοιοτέλευτον, meaning “like ending”). Had I read the quotation carefully during proofreading, I would undoubtedly have caught it since it is obvious that Ehrman’s reading is not the one adopted by the majority of English translations. My remarks in the article in which the mistake occurred, however, are based on Ehrman’s original comments, and the typo did not bear on my remarks. I was disappointed with Ehrman’s uncharitable insinuation that this mistake may have been deliberate when it was quite obviously an accidental typographical error.

The Propriety of Harmonization

Although I am not committed to inerrancy as a matter of principle, I am an avid advocate of the practice of harmonization. Sources that have been demonstrated to be substantially reliable constitute evidence for their propositional claims. This is true whether dealing with a religiously significant text or otherwise. Therefore, if one identifies an apparent discrepancy between reliable sources (such as the gospels), the rational course of action is to search for a plausible way in which those texts may be harmonized. Though this practice is typically disavowed in Biblical scholarship, I think the scholarly bias against harmonization is quite unreasonable. I view harmonization as good, responsible scholarly practice, whether one is dealing with religiously significant sources or secular ones. Different sources that intersect in their reportage of a particular event should be allowed to illuminate and clarify one another. I also think that sources that have been otherwise demonstrated to be highly reliable should be given the benefit of the doubt when there is an apparent discrepancy. In my view, in such cases, reasonable harmonizations should be sought for as a first port of call and the author being in error should be concluded only if possible harmonizations are implausible. Lydia McGrew puts this point well[10]:

Harmonization is not an esoteric or religious exercise. Christians studying the Bible should not allow themselves to be bullied by the implication that they are engaging in harmonization only because of their theological commitments and hence are fudging the data for non-scholarly reasons. To the contrary, reliable historical sources can be expected to be harmonizable, and they normally are harmonizable when all the facts are known. Attempting to see how they fit together is an extremely fruitful method to pursue, sometimes even giving rise to connections such as the undesigned coincidences discussed in Hidden in Plain View. This is why I pursue ordinary harmonization between historical sources and why I often conclude that a harmonization is correct.

Readers who are interested in the case for the robust reliability of the gospel accounts are invited to read other articles I have published concerning this topic or listen to this interview.

An important consideration in regards to the assessment of harmonizations, often overlooked, is that the evidential weight of a proposed error or contradiction in Scripture relates not so much to the probability of anyone proposed harmonization but rather to the disjunction of the probabilities associated with each individual candidate harmonization. To take a simplistic example, if one has four harmonizations that each have a 10% probability of being correct, then the evidential weight of the problem is significantly less than if you only had one of those since the disjunction of the relevant probabilities would be 40%. Thus, the text would be only slightly more likely erroneous than not (and inductive arguments for substantial trustworthiness may tip the scales in favor of giving the author the benefit of the doubt). In reality, of course, the math is rather more complicated than this, since one has to consider whether any of the harmonizations are overlapping or would imply one another in such a way that the probabilities cannot be added to each other. Of course, if some of the disjuncts have a very low probability of being correct, then they will not be of much help.

Conclusion

Multiple times throughout the podcast, Ehrman points out that it is possible to make nearly any two contradictory texts harmonize if you try hard enough. This is true, but it is likewise possible to make nearly any two complementary texts contradict if you try hard enough. Ehrman has swung to the extreme that is the polar opposite of the fundamentalist. The great majority of Ehrman’s alleged examples completely disregard the principle of charity and assume the worst when perfectly plausible harmonizations are available. When two ancient sources talk about an event, it is a good scholarly practice to search for plausible harmonizations of points of tension before concluding that the sources in fact conflict with one another (especially when these sources prove to be generally otherwise reliable). For sure, we should not rule out a priori there may be discrepancies in the text. But we also should not assume from the outset that anything that appears at first blush to be in tension with another account must be a discrepancy.

Footnotes

[1] R. T. France, Matthew: An Introduction and Commentary, vol. 1, Tyndale New Testament Commentaries (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1985), 302.

[2] Craig S. Keener, The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1993), Mt 21:4–7.

[3] Lydia McGrew, The Mirror or the Mask: Liberating the Gospels from Literary Devices (Tampa, FL: Deward Publishing Company, Ltd, 2019), 272-282.

[4] 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), 323.

[5] Bruce Metzger, A textual commentary on the Greek New Testament, second edition a companion volume to the United Bible Societies’ Greek New Testament (4th rev. ed.). (London; New York: United Bible Societies, 1994), 112-113.

[6] Bart D. Ehrman, The Orthodox Corruption of Scripture: The Effect of Early Christological Controversies on the Text of the New Testament (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996).

[7] Tommy Wasserman, “Misquoting Manuscripts? The Orthodox Corruption of Scripture Revisited,” in The Making of Christianity — Conflicts, Contacts, and Constructions: Essays in Honor of Bengt Holmberg, ed. Magnus Zetterholm and Samuel Byrskog (Coniectanea Biblica: New Testament Series 47; Winona Lake, Eisenbrauns, 2012), pp. 325-50.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Gospel according to Luke I–IX: Introduction, Translation, and Notes, vol. 28, Anchor Yale Bible (New Haven; London: Yale University Press, 2008), 485.

[10] Lydia McGrew, The Mirror or the Mask: Liberating the Gospels from Literary Devices (Tampa, FL: Deward Publishing Company, Ltd, 2019), 53-54.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

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

How Can Jesus Be the Only Way? (mp4 Download) by Frank Turek

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

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)

 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

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/mnAuffn

 

Bart Ehrman is a professor of religious studies at UNC-Chapel Hill in North Carolina. He is well known for his best-selling popular-level books that are critical of the core tenets of evangelical Christianity and in particular the reliability of the New Testament sources. Frequent readers of my articles will already know that Ehrman is not the most careful scholar when it comes to his utilization of ancient sources. A few days ago, Ehrman published two blog posts (here and here) on his website, claiming that the idea that Jesus is Himself Yahweh is a recent doctrinal innovation, completely foreign to the New Testament and the ancient church. Ehrman even goes so far as to say that this is the view of only “some conservative evangelical Christians” and that “I’ve never even heard the claim (let alone a discussion of it) until very recently.” Furthermore, Ehrman adds,

I, frankly, had never even heard of such a thing until six years ago.  Maybe I wasn’t listening in Sunday School, or maybe I was sleeping through those particular lectures at Moody Bible Institute; or maybe …  Nah, I don’t think so.  If someone knows differently, please let me know.  But I can’t think of any ancient Christian source that talks about Jesus as Yahweh himself.  Jesus is the son of Yahweh.

Ehrman asserts that,

The first time I heard someone authoritatively say that Jesus was Yahweh and that this was standard Christian teaching was in a debate I had with Justin Bass in 2015 – you can listen to it on Youtube.  I can’t remember when in the debate he said it but he made some comment about Jesus being Yahweh, and I was floored.  I thought: theologians have never called Jesus Yahweh!

For a scholar of Ehrman’s stature to be uninformed regarding Christian orthodox teaching on such a fundamental matter is absolutely astounding. In this article, I respond to Ehrman’s articles and show that he is profoundly mistaken about the teaching of the New Testament and the ancient church.

Early Christian Theologians

Ehrman wonders “if there are any early Christian theologians who have this view.” Yes, there are plenty. For example, Justin Martyr (~100-165), in his dialogue with Trypho the Jew, wrote[1],

…now you will permit me first to recount the prophecies, which I wish to do in order to prove that Christ is called both God and Lord of hosts…

I do not know how one can get much clearer than that. Irenaeus (~130-202) likewise states[2],

For I have shown from the Scriptures, that no one of the sons of Adam is as to everything, and absolutely, called God, or named Lord. But that He is Himself in His own right, beyond all men who ever lived, God, and Lord, and King Eternal, and the Incarnate Word, proclaimed by all the prophets, the apostles, and by the Spirit Himself, may be seen by all who have attained to even a small portion of the truth.

Ignatius of Antioch (~50-108) also affirmed Christ’s full deity. For example, in his epistle to the Ephesians, he wrote[3],

We have also as a Physician the Lord our God, Jesus the Christ, the only begotten Son and Word, before time began, but who afterwards became also man, of Mary the virgin. 

I could continue to quote early church fathers for quite some time, but this should suffice to show that the view that Jesus is Yahweh, the eternal God, is not a new idea but rather goes back to the ancient church. I will now turn to Ehrman’s comments on the New Testament.

Is the Name Yahweh Found in the New Testament?

Ehrman states that, 

Of course, the name Yahweh is not found in the NT at all, since it is a Hebrew word, and the NT is written in Greek.  The NT does not give God a personal name.

This is obviously true since the New Testament was written in Greek, not in Hebrew. However, the New Testament does use an equivalent word — indeed, the word that is substituted for the Hebrew tetragrammaton YHWH in the Greek Septuagint translation of the Hebrew Bible. This word is κύριος, which is translated “Lord” in our English Bibles. Of course, it is true that this word had a broader range of meaning than simply denoting Yahweh (for example, Paul uses it of earthly masters — see Eph 6:5). However, the meaning of Greek words, as intended by the original author, can be shaved down through an examination of context. For example, Hebrews 1:10-12 quotes from Psalm 102:25-27:

You, Lord, laid the foundation of the earth in the beginning, and the heavens are the work of your hands; 11 they will perish, but you remain; they will all wear out like a garment, 12 like a robe you will roll them up, like a garment they will be changed. But you are the same, and your years will have no end.

Verse 10 uses the word κύριος, which evidently (given the fact that the author is quoting an Old Testament Psalm concerning the Lord God) is intended to denote Yahweh. What makes this text especially noteworthy for our purposes here is that the author of Hebrews applies the words of this Psalm to Jesus. Indeed, this Hebrew Biblical text is one of several applied to Jesus in Hebrews 1, as the author compares and contrasts the exaltation of the Son with that of the angelic beings.

To take another example, consider Paul’s quotation of Joel 2:32 in Romans 10:13: “For ‘everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.’” Again, this alludes to an Old Testament text that concerns Yahweh. But Paul introduces this text only a few verses after Paul declared that “if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved” (Rom 10:9). The implication here is that the κύριος of verse 9 is the same referent as in verse 13 — namely, Jesus. In other words, Jesus is the Yahweh of Joel 2:32, on whose name we are to call. This point is drawn out even more explicitly by Paul in 1 Corinthians 1:2: “To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints together with all those who in every place call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours.” This text again clearly alludes to Joel 2:32, except the Lord (κύριος) upon which we are to call is none other than Jesus Christ.

Another example is found in 1 Peter 2:2-4:

2 Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation— 3 if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good. 4 As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious…

Verse 3 quotes from Psalm 34:8 (“Oh, taste and see that the LORD [Yahweh] is good!”). However, verse 4 identifies the κύριος of Psalm 34:8 as none other than Jesus Himself (the nearest antecedent of the pronoun “him” in verse 4 is “the Lord” from verse 3). This implies that Jesus is the Yahweh of Psalm 34:8.

Yet a further example can be found in 1 Peter 3:14-15:

14 But even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, 15 but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy The Holy…

Admittedly, there exists some level of ambiguity about the original reading of verse 15, since the majority of later manuscripts read θεόν (“God”) instead of Χριστόν (“Christ”). However, Bruce Metzger notes that[4],

The reading Χριστόν, however, is strongly supported by early and diversified external evidence…as well as by transcriptional probability, the more familiar expression (κύριον τὸν θεόν) replacing the less usual expression (κύριον τὸν Χριστόν). The omission of τὸν Χριστόν in the patristic treatise de Promissionibus attributed to Quodvultdeus must be due to accidental oversight on the part of either translator or copyist.

If (as seems likely) the original reading is indeed “Christ the Lord”, then we have another example of an Old Testament text that concerns Yahweh being applied to Jesus. Compare 1 Peter 3:14-15, above, with Isaiah 8:12-13:

12 “Do not call conspiracy all that this people calls conspiracy, and do not fear what they fear, nor be in dread. 13 But the LORD of hosts, him you shall honor as holy.

Isaiah 8:12 is quoted by 1 Peter 3:14. Isaiah 8:13 is quoted by 1 Peter 3:15, except instead of calling his readers to honor the Lord of hosts as holy (as Isaiah did), Peter implores his readers to honor Christ the Lord as holy. Thus, we have yet another instance of the title κύριος (which is properly interpreted here as a substitute for the Hebrew tetragrammaton) being applied to Jesus.

I could continue in a similar vein for a considerable time. However, I trust that this is sufficient to dispel Ehrman’s contention that the New Testament does not use the name Yahweh and therefore never calls Jesus Yahweh.

Does Psalm 110 Preclude Jesus from Being Yahweh?

Ehrman continues,

When Christians wanted to find another divine being in the OT to identify as Christ, they went to passages like Psalm 110: “The LORD said to my Lord, sit at my right hand until I make your enemies your footstool.”  Based on what I said in my previous post, you can reconstruct who is talking to whom here (notice the first LORD is in caps and the second not): “YHWH said to Adonai….” 

Ehrman’s entire argument here implicitly presupposes Unitarianism. If the doctrine of the Trinity is true, then there is no problem with persons within the being or essence of Yahweh being distinguished from one another and even participating in conversation with each other. Nor is there a problem with the Father exalting the Son, since the Son had previously voluntarily humbled Himself through His incarnation and death on the cross. No Trinitarian is identifying the Son with the Father. Rather, the Father, Son and Holy Spirit are each distinctive persons who together totally share the essence of Yahweh, each possessing the divine attributes fully and completely.

Ehrman’s representation of the words used in Psalm 110:1 is not quite accurate, since it does not say that “YHWH said to Adonai…” but rather “YHWH said to Adoni.” This difference make look trivial (especially as these two words are distinguished only by a difference in Masoretic vowel pointing) but it is actually important. The title “Adonai” is exclusively used as a divine title (essentially as a synonym for YHWH). In fact, the ancient Hebrews would, instead of pronouncing the divine name, say “Adonai” instead. The word “Adoni”, by contrast, is simply the possessive form of the Hebrew word “Adon”, which means “Lord” or “Master” (the Hebrew equivalent of the Greek word κύριος). The word can be used of Yahweh, depending on the context, but it is not exclusively reserved for Yahweh. The upshot of this is that, though many Christians have used this text to argue for a plurality of divine persons (and, indeed, the deity of Christ), the reality is that any such argument based on this text is going to require more work and nuance than it often receives. I do not believe this text to be as conclusive as the previous texts discussed in the foregoing. However, it is, I would argue, certainly suggestive as we shall see. The context sheds some light on the intended referent of verse 1. In verse 5-7 of Psalm 110, we read,

The Lord is at your right hand; he will crush kings on the day of his wrath. He will judge the nations, heaping up the dead and crushing the rulers of the whole earth. He will drink from a brook along the way, and so he will lift his head high.

In the Hebrew, verse 5 does indeed identify the one seated at Yahweh’s right hand as none other than Adonai, a word used only ever of deity. Thus, Psalm 110 implies a plurality of divine persons within the Godhead. One possible reply to this is that Psalm 110:5 is merely the reversal of Psalm 110:1. Just as David’s Lord sits at the right hand of Yahweh, so also Yahweh is at the right hand of David’s Lord. For instance, in Psalm 109:31, Yahweh is at the right hand of the needy one, and in Psalm 16:8, Yahweh is at the right hand of the Psalmist David. The problem with this argument is that if one continues reading Psalm 110, it is clear that the “He’s” of verses 5-7 all refer back to Adonai, and in verse 7 this individual is said to drink from a brook — a human function. Thus, the individual seated at Yahweh’s right hand in Psalm 110 appears to be a divine-human person.

Furthermore, Jesus Himself Jesus makes the argument that “David himself calls him ‘Lord.’ How then can he be his son?” (Mk 12:37). The point Jesus is making is that none of David’s descendants could be greater than David. This, then, cannot be referring to an ordinary human descendent of David. The question is thus raised as to what sort of Lord this could possibly be referring to. But we can go even further than that. David’s Lord also cannot be any human king, since in Psalm 2:10-12 all kings are to be subject to David, and Psalm 89:26-27 tells us that,

I will appoint him [David] to be my firstborn, the most exalted of the kings of the earth.

It also cannot be a mere angelic creature since angels serve God’s elect and are servants themselves (c.f. Heb 1:7, 14; Rev 19:10 and 22:8-9). Who, then, is left? God.

The Angel of the Lord

Ehrman notes that Christians (such as Justin Martyr in the second century) have often identified the angel of Yahweh, in the Hebrew Bible, as a pre-incarnate manifestation of Christ. He writes,

I wonder if the confusion among some evangelicals about the Christian understanding of Christ (when they say he is Yahweh) is because the “Angel” of the LORD is so fully representative of YHWH himself that he is sometimes called YHWH after he is clearly identified NOT as YHWH but his angel.  Why would he be called YHWH if he was YHWH’s messenger?   It would be kind of like if a messenger of the king comes to you and orders you to do something, you tell your neighbors that the “king” has told you to do something.  Well, actually, his messenger did, but he was so fully representative of the king that his words were the king’s.

This interpretation, however, fails to account for the fact that various people throughout the Hebrew Bible marvel at the fact that they have seen the angel of Yahweh and yet their lives have been spared (people aren’t supposed to be able to see Yahweh and live — Exodus 33:20). For example, consider the words of Jacob after having wrestled with a man in Genesis 32, one who is identified in Hosea 12:4 as the angel of Yahweh: “So Jacob called the name of the place Peniel, saying, ‘For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life has been delivered.’” Further support for the individual with whom Jacob wrestled being the angel of Yahweh comes from the parallel between Genesis 32:29 and Judges 13:18, in which the man and the angel of Yahweh respectively say, upon being asked for their name, “Why do you ask my name?” 

Another occurrence of this is in Judges 6 where we read of Gideon’s encounter with the angel of Yahweh. In verses 22-24, we read, 

22 Then Gideon perceived that he was the angel of the LORD. And Gideon said, “Alas, O LORD God! For now I have seen the angel of the Lord face to face.” 23 But the Lord said to him, “Peace be to you. Do not fear; you shall not die.” 24 Then Gideon built an altar there to the LORD and called it, The LORD Is Peace. To this day it still stands at Ophrah, which belongs to the Abiezrites. 

Yet a further instance occurs in Judges 13, which records the appearance of the angel of Yahweh to Manoah and his wife to announce the birth of Samson. In verse 21-22, we read, 

21 The angel of the Lord appeared no more to Manoah and to his wife. Then Manoah knew that he was the angel of the Lord. 22 And Manoah said to his wife, “We shall surely die, for we have seen God.” 

Thus, we see that numerous texts (and there are plenty that I have not mentioned) bear witness to the deity of the angel of Yahweh. While Ehrman is correct to note that many of these texts also distinguish the angel of Yahweh from God, this is very consistent with a Trinitarian paradigm that views the messenger of God to be Yahweh and yet in another sense somehow distinct from Yahweh.

Ehrman’s interpretation of the angel of the Lord passages also fails to account for the parallelism observed in Genesis 48:15-16, in which we read of Jacob’s blessing of the sons of Joseph. He said,

15 “The God before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac walked, the God who has been my shepherd all my life long to this day, 16 the angel who has redeemed me from all evil, may he bless the boys…”

Here, we see a poetic parallelism where the angel is identified as God. In fact, in the Hebrew, verse 16b uses the singular pronoun, “may he bless the boys”, implying that the angel and God are one and the same.

I discuss the subject of the angel of the Lord in much more detail here and here.

The Carmen Christi

Ehrman next turns his attention to the Christ poem in Philippians 2:5-11. He writes,

When Christ is exalted after his death, God gives him “the name that is above every name” so that all creation will worship and confess him.  That is a reference to Isaiah 45 where Yahweh alone has the name above every name so that all worship and confess him alone. 

Possibly these modern Christians are thinking that Christ, therefore, must have been given the name YHWH, and therefore he *is* YHWH.  But the passage doesn’t seem to mean that.  The ultimate LORD of all, YHWH, is the one who *gives* Jesus the name that is above all others.   It’s worth noting that in this very passage, when God gives Jesus his “name,” it does not mean that he’s made a name switch for Jesus.  On the contrary, the passage says that the name to which everyone will bow in worship and confess is *Jesus*!  (Not YHWH): “That at the name of Jesus every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess.”  Jesus’ own name is exalted.

This, however, is not the argument at all. I do not interpret the “name” of verse 9 to be a personal name. Rather, this in my opinion is best understood as referring to Christ’s reputation that He received as a consequence of His humiliation and death upon the cross.

There are at least three mutually supporting arguments for Christ’s deity that may be adduced from this text. First, this text is chiefly concerned with Christ’s humility, since “though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped” (Phil 2:6). This only makes sense if Christ is equal in status to God, since one is not commended for humility for not exalting oneself to a higher status than one had a right to. If I refrain from overthrowing the monarchy and exalting myself as king, I am not due praise for my humility in so restraining myself. The text, then, is best understood if Christ voluntarily laid aside the divine privilege that was rightfully His. This reading is also supported by the Greek. Indeed, the construction is known as a double accusative of object-complement. Daniel Wallace explains that[5],

An object-complement double accusative is a construction in which one accusative substantive is the direct object of the verb and the other accusative (either noun, adjective, participle, or infinitive) complements the object in that it predicates something about it.

In this case, the verb is οὐχ ἡγήσατο (“did not count”), the direct object is τὸ εἶναι ἴσα θεῷ (“equality with God”) and the object complement is ἁρπαγμὸν (“a thing to be grasped”). Thus, the relationship between the direct object and the object complement is rather like an equal’s sign. In other words, Jesus did not count equality with God to be a thing to be grasped (ἁρπαγμὸν). Furthermore, Roy Hoover has argued that this is in fact an idiomatic expression, which “refers to something already present and at one’s disposal. The question… [is] whether or not one chooses to exploit something.”[6] Hoover observes that in every instance where this noun ἁρπαγμός is the object compliment in a construction such as this (where the verb is one of regarding or seeing or consideration), it always means something like an exploitable advantage. Thus, argues Hoover, one could reasonably translate this text to be saying that Christ did not regard being equal with God as something to take advantage of.

A second consideration is that Paul uses the Greek word μορφῇ in verse 6 to describe Christ being in the form of God and uses this exact same word in verse 7 to describe Christ taking the form of a servant. This implies that Christ was in the form of God in the same sense as He took upon Himself the form of a servant. Since Christ was very literally a servant, “being born in the likeness of men” (v. 7b), it follows that Christ was also literally God.

Third, Ehrman rightly points out that verses 10-11 allude to Isaiah 45:23, in which we read, “To me [that is, Yahweh] every knee shall bow, every tongue shall swear allegiance.” However, in the context of Philippians 2:10-11, every knee is bowing and every tongue swearing allegiance to Jesus. Indeed, that is what is meant by confessing that Jesus Christ is Lord (κύριος), which literally means master.

Conclusion

To conclude, contrary to Ehrman’s assertions, the view that Jesus is Yahweh has been the orthodox Christian position for nearly two millennia, and it is taught in the New Testament. Ehrman claims that the name Yahweh is never used in the New Testament and so could not be applied by the New Testament authors to Jesus. However, the New Testament does use the equivalent Greek term κύριος. Although this word is also used to describe earthly masters, the word is often used to denote Yahweh when the New Testament quotes the Old Testament, and often these texts are explicitly applied to the person of Jesus. Ehrman’s argument from the New Testament’s usage of Psalm 110 presupposes a Unitarian paradigm. Though Ehrman argues that the angel of the Lord in the Hebrew Bible is only the agent of Yahweh who is invested with divine authority, this argument collapses on the basis of the various exclamations of surprise, following an encounter with the angel of the Lord, that one has survived despite having seen God face-to-face. Finally, Ehrman is mistaken about Philippians 2:5-11, which is best read as indicating that Christ voluntarily laid aside the divine privilege that was rightfully His in order to take upon Himself the form of a servant.

Footnotes

[1] Justin Martyr, “Dialogue of Justin with Trypho, a Jew,” in The Apostolic Fathers with Justin Martyr and Irenaeus, ed. Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe, vol. 1, The Ante-Nicene Fathers (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1885), 212.

[2] Irenaeus of Lyons, “Irenæus against Heresies,” in The Apostolic Fathers with Justin Martyr and Irenaeus, ed. Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe, vol. 1, The Ante-Nicene Fathers (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1885), 449.

[3] Ignatius of Antioch, “The Epistle of Ignatius to the Ephesians,” in The Apostolic Fathers with Justin Martyr and Irenaeus, ed. Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe, vol. 1, The Ante-Nicene Fathers (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1885), 52–200.

[4] Bruce Manning Metzger, United Bible Societies, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, Second Edition a Companion Volume to the United Bible Societies’ Greek New Testament (4th Rev. Ed.) (London; New York: United Bible Societies, 1994), 621–622.

[5] Daniel B. Wallace, Greek Grammar beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996), 182.

[6] Roy W. Hoover, “The Harpagmos Enigma,” Harvard Theological Review 64 (1971).

Recommended resources related to the topic:

How Can Jesus Be the Only Way? (mp4 Download) by Frank Turek

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

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

 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

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/vbGeYgn

 

I have been publishing a series of articles addressing how one might best approach interpreting the early chapters of Genesis, and how science might illuminate Biblical texts and guide our hermeneutics.

In this article, I will explore the text of the first chapter of Scripture, Genesis 1, with a view towards determining whether this text commits one to a young earth interpretation of origins or at least the extent to which the text tends to support such a view, if at all.

It is common for young-earth creationists to presume that, if the young earth interpretation of the text can be demonstrated to be the most face-value or simplest hermeneutical approach, then this is the view that one should prefer, and thus the scientific evidence must be shoehorned into a young earth mold. However, as I have argued in previous articles, this does not necessarily follow, since we have to contend with not only special revelation, but general revelation as well. In view of the independent considerations that warrant belief that Genesis is inspired Scripture and those that compel us to affirm an ancient earth and cosmos, interpretations that result in harmony between science and Scripture ought to be preferred over those that put them in conflict. Charles Hodge (1797-1878), a nineteenth-century conservative Presbyterian put it this way[1]:

It is, of course, admitted that taking [the Genesis creation] account by itself, it would be most natural to understand the word [“day”] in its ordinary sense; but if that sense brings the Mosaic account into conflict with facts, and another sense avoids such conflict, then it is obligatory on us to adopt that other.… The Church has been forced more than once to alter her interpretation of the Bible to accommodate the discoveries of science. But this has been done without doing any violence to the Scriptures or in any degree impairing their authority.

As I have argued before, ad hoc auxiliary hypotheses in respect to either science or Scripture may reasonably be invoked only if the overall evidence for Christianity is sufficient to bear it. In my considered opinion, the evidence for Christianity, strong though it is, is insufficient to bear the weight of a young earth interpretation of cosmic and geological history. I do, however, think that it is sufficient to bear the weight of an old earth interpretation of Scripture (though I realize that a certain level of subjectivity is required in making this assessment). Therefore, if the text of Scripture does compel one to subscribe to a young earth view, then the hypothesis that Scripture is in error should be preferred over concluding that the earth and cosmos are, in fact, young (i.e. on the order of thousands of years). However, alternative interpretive approaches that do not entail a manifestly false implication should be fairly evaluated before such a conclusion is arrived at.

An important consideration in regards to the assessment of harmonizations, often overlooked, is that the evidential weight of a proposed error or contradiction in Scripture relates not so much to the probability of any one proposed harmonization but rather to the disjunction of the probabilities associated with each individual candidate harmonization. To take a simplistic example, if one has four harmonizations that each have a 10% probability of being correct, then the evidential weight of the problem is significantly less than if you only had one of those since the disjunction of the relevant probabilities would be 40%. Thus, the text would be only slightly more likely erroneous than not (and inductive arguments for substantial trustworthiness may tip the scales in favor of giving the author the benefit of the doubt). In reality, of course, the math is rather more complicated than this, since one has to consider whether any of the harmonizations are overlapping or would imply one another in such a way that the probabilities cannot be added to each other. This principle may be applied to our analysis of the text of Genesis 1 — the disjunction of the various interpretations that can be offered reduces the evidential value of the case from those texts against the text’s reliability. Of course, if some of the disjuncts have a very low probability of being correct, then they will not be of much help.

If it be found that the Biblical text has indeed erred, then we would need to explore the ramifications of that finding. It should be acknowledged that a demonstration of the falsehood of inerrancy would constitute some evidence against inspiration and in turn against Christianity, since one has to acknowledge that there is some pull toward inerrancy if one holds that a book is divinely inspired in any meaningful sense, though I am not convinced that inspiration necessarily entails inerrancy, depending on the model of inspiration that one adopts (perhaps a subject for a future article). However, since inerrancy is an ‘all-or-nothing’ proposition, once a single error has been admitted (and thus inerrancy falsified), the evidential weight against Christianity that is carried by subsequent demonstrations of similar types of errors is substantially reduced. Some proposed errors would be of greater consequence than others. Some errors (such as the reported long life spans discussed in my previous article) would affect only the doctrine of inerrancy (as well as being epistemically relevant to the substantial trustworthiness of particular Biblical books), whereas others (such as the non-existence of a robust historical Adam), being inextricably linked to other core propositions of Christianity, would be much more serious. Another factor that influences the epistemic consequence of Scriptural errors is the source of those errors. Deliberate distortions of fact, for example, have a much greater negative effect on both the doctrine that the book is inspired and the substantial trustworthiness of the document than errors introduced in good faith.

Did God Create a Mature Universe?

A popular mistake made by advocates of young-earth creationism is to assume that if a piece of evidence can be interpreted in a manner that is consistent with a young earth interpretation of cosmic and geological history then that piece of evidence does not support an old earth view and so need not concern them. However, this is quite mistaken. Evidence may tend to confirm a hypothesis even if it can be interpreted in a manner consistent with an alternative view. To count as confirming evidence, it only has to be more probable on the truth of the hypothesis in question than on its falsehood. The more such evidences there are that have to be re-interpreted so as to be in alignment with a young earth perspective, the more ad hoc and therefore implausible the young-earth model of origins becomes.

One attempt to salvage young earth creationism that I often encounter from lay-creationists (though less frequently from academic ones) is to postulate that the earth and Universe were created mature, in a manner akin to Christ’s transformation of water into mature wine (Jn 2:1-11). To many, this postulation has the attraction of allowing one to dismiss the evidence of vast age as saying nothing about how old the earth actually is, in a similar manner to how Adam, having been created mature, would appear to be much older than he actually was. However, this explanation will not work because the geological record appears to tell a story of historical events, including the existence of animal death long before man, something that young earth interpretations of Scripture typically preclude (though I do not find Scriptural arguments for this convincing).

Furthermore, there is a remarkable correlation between the dates that are yielded by the radiometric dating methods and the types of organisms found in the strata. For example, if you were to specify a date yielded by the radiometric dating techniques to a paleontologist (say, for example, rock dating to the Cambrian period), he would be able to predict, with precision, what organisms you would expect to be preserved in rocks dating to that age — as well as what you would not expect to find — regardless of where in the world you identified it. That remarkable correlation is quite unexpected on a young earth’s interpretation of geological history but totally unsurprising on an old earth’s interpretation.

Our observation of distant galaxies, often millions of light-years away from the earth (meaning the light leaving those stars takes millions of years to be observed by an observer on earth), is also something that is highly expected on an old earth interpretation but quite surprising on a young earth interpretation. Positing light created in transit will not help here, since we are able to observe events in deep space (such as supernovae) which, on such a view, would be merely illusory (since the light would never have in fact left those events in the first place). This would mean that much of our stellar observations are illusory, an implication that I find highly troubling. While one can attempt to postulate convoluted ad hoc rationalizations of distant star light, as some have done, it still must be recognized as far less surprising on an old earth view than on a young earth view, and thus evidence that is confirmatory of the old earth view.

A further great difficulty is the need to postulate that all of the meteor impacts with the earth have taken place during the past six thousand years, including the one that caused the meteor crater in the Gulf of Mexico, thought to have resulted in the extinction of the dinosaurs, 65 million years ago, as well as the meteor that caused the Vredefort Dome, thought to be the biggest impact crater in the world, located in Potchefstroom, South Africa. The latter of those is thought to have taken place more than two billion years ago. If either of those impacts had occurred in the last six thousand years (as required by young earth creationism), the effect on human civilization and animal life around the globe would have been devastating, and yet there is no evidence that such impacts have occurred in recorded history. While some geologists have historically argued that the Vredefort Dome is the result of a volcanic event, this is a minority view that today is not widely accepted. The consensus view is that it is a meteor impact zone, and various lines of evidence support this, including evidence of shock in the quartz grains and evidence of rapid melting of the granite, turning it into glass.

These are only the beginning of the scientific challenges to young-earth creationism. Cumulatively, the numerous lines of evidence that convergently point in the direction of an old earth and cosmos are quite overwhelming. While I could talk for some time about the scientific challenges to young-earth creationism (perhaps a subject for a future article), the primary purpose of this article is to assess the extent to which, if any, the text of Genesis inclines one towards a young earth interpretation of cosmic and earth history. It is to this that I now turn.

Can One Interpret the Creation Days to Be Literal and Consecutive While Rejecting Young Earth Creationism?

Before I address the question of whether the ‘days’ of creation week are best understood to be literal and consecutive, I will first assess whether it is possible to take the ‘days’ to be literal and consecutive while simultaneously rejecting the implication of young-earth creationism. There are two major schools of thought that answer that question in the affirmative, and so I will here offer a brief discussion of those approaches.

In 1996, John Sailhamer put forward the view (which he calls “historical creationism”) that, whereas Genesis 1:1 depicts the creation of the Universe, Genesis 1:2-2:4a describes a period of one week (that is, seven solar days) during which the promised land was prepared and human beings were created in it.[2] Sailhamer’s book has some impressive endorsements, including John Piper[3], Mark Driscoll[4], and Matt Chandler[5].

Sailhamer argues that the meaning of “earth” in verse 1 is different from the meaning in verse 2. He argues that in verse 1, its connection to the word “heavens” indicates that it is being used to refer to the cosmos. He argues, “when these two terms [sky and land] are used together as a figure of speech, they take on a distinct meaning of their own. Together, they mean far more than the sum of the meanings of the two individual words.”[6] When these words are used together, argues Sailhamer, they “form a figure of speech called a ‘merism.’ A merism combines two words to express a single idea. A merism expresses ‘totality’ by combining two contrasts or two extremes.”[7] Sailhamer uses the example of David’s statement that God knows his sitting down and rising up.[8] This statement expresses the fact that God has exhaustive knowledge of everything that he does (Ps 139). Thus, concludes Sailhamer, “the concept of ‘everything’ is expressed by combining the two opposites ‘my sitting down’ and ‘my rising up’.”[9] Sailhamer draws the parallel between this and the reference to the sky and land in Genesis 1:1. He notes, “by linking these two extremes into a single expression — ‘sky and land’ or ‘heavens and earth’ — the Hebrew language expresses the totality of all that exists. Unlike English, Hebrew doesn’t have a single word to express the concept of ‘the universe’; it must do so by means of a merism. The expression ‘sky and land’ thus stands for the ‘entirety of the universe.’”[10] Sailhamer argues (correctly in my view) that Genesis 1:1 is not, as some have suggested, a title or summary of the chapter, but rather refers to a distinct divine act that took place prior to the six days described in the remainder of the chapter.[11]

If only Genesis 1:1 describes the creation of the Universe, then what is the remainder of the chapter about? Sailhamer suggests that it describes God preparing the promised land for the occupation of mankind. He points out, correctly, that the Hebrew word אֶ֫רֶץ (“eretz”) generally refers to a localized region of the planet, rather than to the earth as a whole, so it is quite legitimate to translate the word as “land” rather than as “earth”. For example, the same word “land” is contrasted in Genesis 1:10 with the seas. Sailhamer notes that “the ‘seas’ do not cover the ‘land’ as would be the case if the term meant ‘earth.’ Rather the ‘seas’ lie adjacent to the ‘land’ and within it.”[12]

Sailhamer argues that the expression תֹ֙הוּ֙ וָבֹ֔הוּ (“tohu wabohu”) is best translated not as “formless and void” (which suggests that the earth was an unformed mass) but rather as “deserted wilderness”, which, he argues, sets the scene for God’s work to render the land inhabitable to mankind.

One concern I have about Sailhamer’s thesis is that, while it is true that the phrase “the heavens and the earth” is a merism that refers to the entire Universe, this merism shows up not only in Genesis 1:1 but also in 2:1, which states “Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host of them.” This verse seems to indicate that the entirety of Genesis 1 is concerned with the heavens and the earth, i.e. the Universe as a whole, not only to a localized region of the earth. The Sabbath commandment also refers to God having made in six days “heaven and earth, the sea and all that is in them,” (Exod 20:11). This also seems to suggest strongly that the perspective of Genesis 1 is global rather than local. A further problem is that it seems rather unlikely that the word “earth” refers in Genesis 1 to some specific “land”, since the “earth” is contrasted with the seas (Gen 1:10). Furthermore, the waters of the fifth day are populated with the great sea creatures (Gen 1:21), which indicates that it refers to the oceans.

A more recent attempt to harmonize an interpretation of the creation days that takes them to be both literal and consecutive, known as the cosmic temple view, has been put forward by Old Testament scholar John Walton of Wheaton College.[13] Walton interprets the days of creation as a chronological sequence of twenty-four-hour days. However, he writes that these days are “not given as the period of time over which the material cosmos came into being, but the period of time devoted to the inauguration of the functions of the cosmic temple, and perhaps also its annual re-enactment.”[14]

Walton argues that Genesis 1 does not concern material origins at all. Instead, he asserts that the text concerns assignment of functions. Walton argues that, during the days of creation week, which he takes to be regular solar days, God was “establishing functions”[15] and “installed its functionaries”[16] for the created order. Walton concedes that “Theoretically it could be both. But assuming that we simply must have a material account if we are going to say anything meaningful, is cultural imperialism.”[17] Walton maintains that the thesis he proposes is “not a view that has been rejected by other scholars; it is simply one they have never considered because their material ontology was a blind presupposition for which no alternative was ever considered.”[18] However, as philosopher John Lennox rightly points out, “Surely, if ancient readers thought only in functional terms, the literature would be full of it, and scholars would be very aware of it?”[19]

Moreover, it is not clear exactly what is entailed by God assigning functions to the sun and moon, and the land and sea creatures if, as Walton maintains, this has nothing to do with material origins. Analytic philosopher Lydia McGrew also notes that[20],

…it is difficult to figure out what Walton means by God’s establishing functions and installing functionaries in a sense that has nothing to do with material origins! Perhaps the most charitable thing to do would be to throw up one’s hands and conclude that the book is radically unclear. What could it mean for all the plants already to be growing, providing food for animals, the sun to be shining, etc., but for these entities nonetheless to lack functions prior to a set of specific 24-hour days in a specific week?

What would creation week have looked like from the standpoint of an earthly observer? According to Walton, “The observer in Genesis 1 would see day by day that everything was ready to do for people what it had been designed to do. It would be like taking a campus tour just before students were ready to arrive to see all the preparations that had been made and how everything had been designed, organized and constructed to serve students.”[21] Furthermore, Walton claims, the “main elements lacking in the ‘before’ picture are therefore humanity in God’s image and God’s presence in his cosmic temple.”[22]

Walton asserts that in the ancient worldview it was possible for something to materially exist but not to exist functionally. He claims that “people in the ancient world believed that something existed not by virtue of its material properties, but by virtue of its having a function in an ordered system. Here I do not refer to an ordered system in scientific terms, but an ordered system in human terms, that is in relation to society and culture.”[23] Walton places great emphasis on the meaning of the Hebrew verb בָּרָ֣א (“bara”), meaning “to create”. He offers a list of words that form objects of the verb בָּרָ֣א and asserts that the “grammatical objects of the verb are not easily identifiable in material terms.”[24] Walton lists the accompanying purpose or function that is assigned to each of the created entities. He then attempts to suggest that “a large percentage of the contexts require a functional understanding.”[25] This, however, does not exclude a material understanding. Even more odd is Walton’s statement that “This list shows that grammatical objects of the verb are not easily identified in material terms, and even when they are, it is questionable that the context is objectifying them.”[26] However, the chart that Walton presents lists objects of the verb that are material entities — including people, creatures, a cloud of smoke, rivers, the starry host, etc. It is certainly true that not all of these usages of the verb בָּרָ֣א refer to de novo special creation. For example, the creation of Israel (Isa 43:15) was not a special de novo material creation by divine fiat. However, even our English verbs “to create” and “to make” can have this flexibility of meaning, and its precise usage can be discerned from the context. If I say that I am going to create a new business, I do not mean that I am creating employees and office space de novo. Likewise, when the psalmist asks God to “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me” (Ps 51:10), while “create” is not being used here in a material sense, the genre is clearly poetic, and so caution should be exercised about extrapolating the meaning of a metaphorical usage of the word to its regular usage. A yet further problem with Walton’s interpretation of the verb בָּרָ֣א as having only an interest in function in Genesis 1 is the fact that, as C. John Collins has noted, “1:26-31 are parallel to 2:4-25; this means that the ‘forming of the man using dust (2:7), and the ‘building’ of the woman using the man’s rib (2:22), are parallel descriptions of the ‘creation’ of the first human of 1:27. Hence it makes sense to read 1:27 as a description of a material operation.”[27]

Michael Jones, a popular Christian YouTube apologist, has in recent years championed Walton’s thesis. To Walton’s arguments in support of his contention that Genesis 1 does not concern material origins, Jones adds a very odd argument.[28] He cites Jeremiah 4:23-26, which says of Israel,

23 I looked on the earth, and behold, it was without form and void; and to the heavens, and they had no light. 24 I looked on the mountains, and behold, they were quaking, and all the hills moved to and fro. 25 I looked, and behold, there was no man, and all the birds of the air had fled. 26 I looked, and behold, the fruitful land was a desert, and all its cities were laid in ruins before the Lord, before his fierce anger.

Jones comments[29],

If Genesis 1 is about the material creation of all things, we should expect the same language in reverse to be disintegration of the materials spoken about. However, when Assyria conquered Israel and deported all the elites, we don’t suggest the fabric of space/time ripped open and the land of Israel popped out of existence. Instead, we understand the kingdom went from a productive functioning society to a chaotic land. The light from the sun literally did not stop shining on that region. It was just part of the cultural expression to say the kingdom went from an ordered society into disorder. And thus, the reverse in Genesis 1 would only suggest that God took a disordered chaos and ordered it to be a functioning temple for himself and the humans therein, not the beginning of all matter as we know it.

While Michael Jones has a brilliant mind and has made very welcome contributions to the field of apologetics, this interpretation reflects a total disregard of the rhetoric of Jeremiah. The prophet is using a portrayal as if it were the case that the sun had gone out, and “there was no man, and all the birds of the air had fled.” He is not making an ontological statement.

Furthermore, the arguments that Walton adduces in support of his contention that in the ancient worldview it was possible for something to materially exist but not to exist functionally seem to me to be very weak, even seeming to undermine his position. Walton, for example, asserts that in Hittite literature, there is a creation myth that speaks of “cutting heaven and earth apart with a copper cutting tool.”[30] He also quotes the Egyptian Papyrus Insinger as stating regarding the god, “He created food before those who are alive, the wonder of the fields. He created the constellation of those that are in the sky, so that those on earth should learn them. He created sweet water in it which all the lands desire.”[31] Walton also says that the Babylonian creation epic, Enuma Elish, has Maduk “harnessing the waters of Tiamat for the purpose of providing the basis of agriculture. It includes the piling up of dirt, releasing the Tigris and Euphrates, and digging holes to manage the catchwater.”[32] However, it is not clear to me how these texts support Walton’s thesis. No argument is offered for why the ancients did not believe that the gods physically separated the heavens from the earth. Just because we, as modern readers, take the face value reading of those texts to be manifestly false does not mean that an ancient audience necessarily would have. Walton also offers no argument to support the conclusion that either the author or audience of the text concerning the Tigris and the Euphrates did not interpret the text to say that Marduk physically released the rivers and constructed the holes to manage the catchwater.

Another key issue here is that there is no reason to believe that assignment of function and an interest in material origins are in any sense mutually exclusive. It is a non-sequitur to reason that since the the word בָּרָ֣א is often associated with a mention of functional assignment that it therefore had no connotations regarding material origins. Functional assignment and material origins go hand-in-hand, since material design is what allows an entity to perform its function.

Having rejected interpretations that propose to harmonize an old earth perspective with an interpretation of the creation week as being a series of six consecutive solar days, we must now address the question of what interpretive paradigm makes best sense of the text of Genesis 1, and it is to this question that I now turn.

In the Beginning

In Genesis 1:1-3, we read,

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. 2 The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. 3 And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.

It has been often noted that verse 3 marks the first occurrence of the phrase “And God said…”. This expression is used to denote the commence of each of the six days of creation week (vv. 3, 6, 9, 14, 20, 24). Thus, it may be argued, the first day of creation week begins in fact in verse 3, not in verse 1. Therefore, by the time that one reaches the first day of creation week, the heavens and the earth already exist. Therefore, irrespective of what one thinks about the age of the biosphere (a separate discussion), Scripture is completely silent on the age of the Universe and the earth — even if the days of creation week are taken to be literal and consecutive. Moreover, when God says “Let there be light” (Gen 1:3), marking the commence of the first ‘day’ of creation week, this can be understood as God summoning the dawn of the first day, since the expression “Let there be…” does not necessarily indicate that something came into being — e.g. the Psalmist says “let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us,” (Ps 33:22), which does not imply that God’s steadfast love had not previously been with them.

This argument is not without objection. For example, some writers take verse 1 to be a summary heading of the whole account rather than describing an event that took place an unspecified time prior to the first day of creation week.[33] However, Hebrew scholar C. John Collins notes that this interpretation is less likely, since “the verb created in Genesis 1:1 is in the perfect, and the normal use of the perfect at the very beginning of a pericope is to denote an event that took place before the storyline gets under way.”[34] John Sailhamer also adduces a few reasons that make it more likely that Genesis 1:1 describes an event that happened prior to creation week, rather than being a summary title.[35] First, Genesis 1:1 is a complete sentence and makes a statement, which is not how titles are formed in Hebrew. For instance, Genesis 5:1 serves as a title for the verses that follow, and reads like this: “This is the book of the generations of Adam.” Second, verse 2 begins with the conjunction “and.” This, however, is surprising if Genesis 1:1 is intended to be a summary heading of the whole chapter. Sailhamer notes that if 1:1 were a summary title, “the section immediately following it would surely not begin with the conjunction ‘and.’”[36] Third, there is a summary statement of chapter 1 found at its conclusion, in 2:1, which would render a summary title at he beginning of chapter redundant. It seems rather unlikely that the account would have two summary titles.

Perhaps the strongest argument for understanding Genesis 1:1 to be a summarizing title of the entire pericope was presented by Bruce Waltke.[37] He argues that the combination “the heavens and the earth” is a merism referring to “the organized universe, the cosmos.”[38] He argues that “this compound never has the meaning of disorderly chaos but always of an orderly world.”[39] He further contends that “disorder, darkness, and deep” suggest “a situation not tolerated in the perfect cosmos and never said to have been called into existence by the Word of God.”[40] However, C. John Collins responds to this argument by noting that the expression “without form and void” (Gen 1:2) is not a phrase for “disorderly chaos” but rather it depicts the earth as “an unproductive and uninhabited place.”[41] He points out that “There is no indication that the ‘deep’ is any kind of opponent to God; indeed, in the rest of the Bible it does his bidding and praises him (compare Gen. 7:11; 8:1; 49:25; Pss. 33:7; 104:6; 135:6; 148:7; Prov. 3:20; 8:28). And since God names the darkness (Gen. 1:5), there is no reason to believe that it opposes his will, either.”[42]

In any case, while there is ongoing scholarly debate between those competing interpretations, reading Genesis 1:1 as a description of events that take place prior to creation week is at the very least plausible, if not somewhat favored as the most likely meaning. Thus, there is certainly no room for dogmatism that Genesis 1 commits one to a young Universe or earth, regardless of what one thinks about the age of the biosphere (which will relate to how one understands the ‘days’ of creation week).

Some scholars argue that Genesis 1:1 should in fact be translated, “When God began to create the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void…”[43]  Such a reading would be consistent with Genesis 1 not referring to the special creation of the Universe from nothing but rather bringing about order and organization to a chaotic and formless void. However, C. John Collins states that “the simplest rendering of the Hebrew as we have it is the conventional one (which is how the ancient versions in Greek and Latin took it).”[44] The main argument for this alternative translation is the lack of a definite article in the opening words. The text as we have it says בְּרֵאשִׁית (“bere’shit”), whereas proponents of the translation under discussion would argue that the traditional translation would make more sense if it instead said בָּרֵאשִׁית (“bare’shit”). However, as C. John Collins notes, “Because we have no evidence that any ancient author found this a problem, the conventional reading stands.”[45] This too is an item of ongoing academic debate. However, even if the alternative reading is correct, we would not lose anything since plenty of other Biblical texts indicate that the Universe is temporally finite, and that God brought it into being ex nihilo.

Are the ‘Days’ of Genesis 1 Literal?

Discussion of the interpretation of Genesis 1 has tended to focus on the proper translation of the Hebrew word יוֹם (“yom”). Perhaps the best-known representative of the old earth position is Hugh Ross of “Reasons to Believe,” though I often find his interpretations to be somewhat strained and far-fetched. Hugh Ross notes that “the Hebrew word yom, translated ‘day,’ is used in biblical Hebrew (as in modern English) to indicate any of four-time periods: (a) some portion of the daylight (hours); (b) sunrise to sunset; (c) sunset to sunset; or (d) a segment of time without any reference to solar days (from weeks to a year to several years to an age or epoch.” [46] This is correct, but, as in modern English, the context allows the reader to discern which of those literal meanings is in view.

In Genesis 2:4, we read,

These are the generations of the heavens and the earth when they were created, in the day that the LORD God made the earth and the heavens.

Here, the Hebrew word יוֹם refers to an indefinite but finite period of time, corresponding to definition (d) offered by Hugh Ross above. However, the context makes it obvious that this is the reading that is in view. In English, we also use expressions like “back in the day” to refer to an indefinite but finite period of time, and there is no ambiguity about whether it refers to a literal day or a longer period of time. Likewise, we might say “the day was almost over”, and that would make it clear that the the word “day” is intended to be understood as referring to daylight hours, corresponding to definition (a) of Ross’ set of literal meanings. Young earth creationists typically respond to Ross’ proposed translation, rightly in my view, by observing that the use of the words “evening” and “morning”, combined with an ordinal number, in referring to the days of creation week, makes it clear that a solar day is in view, either of a 12 hour or 24 hour duration.[47] What is often overlooked, however, is that settling the issue of translating the word יוֹם does not in itself indicate whether it is intended to be understood literally or figuratively. It also does not indicate whether the days are strictly consecutive, or whether there may be gaps between each of the days. Those are logically downstream questions of the issue of translation and must be addressed separately.

Is there any example in Scripture where the word יוֹם is clearly best translated as “day” in the regular sense, and yet is not intended to be understood literally? Indeed there is. In Hosea 6:2, we read,

Come, let us return to the LORD; for he has torn us, that he may heal us; he has struck us down, and he will bind us up. 2 After two days he will revive us; on the third day he will raise us up, that we may live before him.

The context here is that Israel has been subjected to God’s judgment. This text is a call for Israel to return to the Lord to receive healing and restoration. Whereas the Hebrew word יוֹם is used here (the same word translated as “day” in Genesis 1) along with an ordinal number, the word “day” is clearly being used in a non-literal sense and refers almost certainly to a longer period of time. The usage of the word “day”, when combined with an ordinal number, in a non-literal sense here at least renders it possible that the word “day” in Genesis 1 is being used in a non-literal sense as well. This does not by itself make it probable, but it at least opens up the possibility.

How, then, are the days of Genesis 1 best understood? There are a number of clues in the text that the days are not meant to be understood literally. C. John Collins observes that, whereas each of the six workdays has the refrain “and there was evening and there was morning, the nth day,” this refrain is missing from the seventh day.[48] Collins suggests that this may be explained by positing that the seventh day on which God rested has not come to an end, like the other six days, but continues even to the present time. In support of this, Collins appeals to two New Testament texts — John 5:17 and Hebrews 4:3-11. In the former reference, Jesus gets into trouble for having healed a man on the Sabbath day. Jesus responds by saying that “My Father is working until now, and I am working.” Collins suggests that Jesus should be interpreted to be saying here, “My Father is working on his Sabbath, just as I am working on my Sabbath.”[49] Collins concludes that “we can account for that most easily if we take Jesus to mean that the creation Sabbath still goes on.”[50] In Hebrews 4:3-11, the author of Hebrews quotes Psalm 95:11, which indicates that unbelievers will not enter the “rest” of God (v. 3). The author then notes that God “rested” on the seventh day (v. 4). The author asserts that Joshua did not give the Hebrews “rest”. Since the context of Psalm 95:11 is God forbidding the Hebrews who had left Egypt from entering the promised land, the contention of the author of Hebrews that Joshua did not give the people true “rest” indicates that he does not understand Psalm 95:11 literally. Rather, there is a Sabbath rest for God’s people to enter into. And how can God’s people enter into God’s rest? By resting from their works as God did from His (v. 10). Collins concludes, “This makes good sense if ‘God’s rest,’ which he entered on the creation Sabbath, is the same ‘rest’ that believers enter—and thus God’s rest is still available because it still continues.”[51] This interpretation is not a modern one. Indeed, Augustine of Hippo wrote in his Confessions that the seventh day of creation “hath no evening, nor hath it setting; because Thou hast sanctified it to an everlasting continuance.”[52] What are the implications of this insight? Collins notes, “If the seventh day is not an ordinary one, then we may begin to wonder if perhaps the other six days have to be ordinary.”[53]

  1. John Collins also points to Genesis 2:5-7, in which we read,

5 When no bush of the field was yet in the land and no small plant of the field had yet sprung up—for the LORD God had not caused it to rain on the land, and there was no man to work the ground, 6 and a mist was going up from the land and was watering the whole face of the ground— 7 then the LORD God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.

Collins notes that this text is “out of step with the sequence of the days in the first story: there, God made the plants on the third day, as we find in 1:11-12.”[54] Furthermore, “2:5-6 says that those plants weren’t there because it hadn’t yet rained (which is the ‘ordinary providence’ reason for plants not being there), while Genesis 1 has them being created (which is a special situation).”[55] These texts are best harmonized by taking Genesis 2:5-7 to be referring to a localized region of the earth, not to the globe as a whole — that is to say, in a specific region of the planet, “no small plant of the field had yet sprung up” since it had not yet rained. That the origins of plants described in Genesis 1:11-12 refers to a different event from that described in Genesis 2:5-7 is apparent given that Genesis 2:5 indicates that the reason why the bushes and plants of the field had not sprung up is because there had been no rain, which implies that the plant growth relates to God’s ordinary providence, not to their special creation by divine fiat, as in 1:11-12. In other words, it was the dry season. Collins points out that “In Palestine, it doesn’t rain during the summer, and the autumn rains bring about a burst of plant growth. So verses 5–7 would make good sense if we supposed that they describe a time of year when it has been a dry summer, so the plants aren’t growing—but the rains and the man are about to come, so the plants will be able to grow in the ‘land.’”[56] Collins concludes, “The only way that I can make any sense out of this ordinary providence explanation that the Bible itself gives is if I imagine that the cycle of rain, plant growth, and dry season had been going on for some number of years before this point—because the text says nothing about God not yet having made the plants.”[57] If this is the case, then this would suggest that the length of the six days of creation could not have been that of an ordinary week, since it would imply that the cycle of seasons had been going on for some time.

One may observe that Genesis 1:11-12 does not necessarily entail that God created fully grown plants de novo, since the text indicates that “The earth brought forth vegetation…” This would allow one to take plant growth as taking place by God establishing the cycle of ordinary providence. However, since vegetation and fruit trees take more than a day to grow and develop by ordinary providence, this would likewise entail a creation week that is rather different in terms of duration than our typical week. In my opinion, positing that Genesis 1:11-12 and Genesis 2:5-6 refer to distinct events, the latter being more local in scope, is the simplest and most natural explanation of the relevant data. This, then, for the reasons articulated above, tends to suggest a creation week that is not identical in length to our regular seven-day week.

There are still yet further clues that the duration of creation week is not like our typical weeks. For example, many have noted the sheer number of events that are said to have taken place on the sixth day, which presumably would have taken more time than a single solar day. Collins lists the various things that are said to have happened on the sixth day: “God makes the land animals, forms Adam, plants the Garden and moves the man there, lays instructions upon him, puts him through a search for ‘a helper fit for him’ (and during this search Adam names all the animals), casts a deep sleep over him and makes a woman out of his rib.”[58] Furthermore, when Adam is united with the woman, Eve, whom God had formed, Adam responds, “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.”[59] This is suggestive of Adam having waited a long time for a suitable helper.

Besides the discussion of whether the ‘days’ of creation week are to be understood literally or not, there is also the issue of whether there is any reason to preclude the possibility of there being gaps between the days, even if those days are taken as regular days. Indeed, John Lennox suggests “that the writer did not intend us to think of the first six days as days of a single earth week, but rather as a sequence of six creation days; that is, days of normal length (with evenings and mornings as the text says) in which God acted to create something new, but days that might well have been separated by long periods of time. We have already seen that Genesis separates the initial creation, ‘the beginning,’ from the sequence of days. What we are now suggesting in addition is that the individual days might well have been separated from one another by unspecified periods of time.”[60] I am not aware of any linguistic reason to exclude this possibility.

To recap, while the young earth creationists are correct that the best translation of the Hebrew word יוֹם in the context of Genesis 1 is “day”, the text of Genesis 1 is consistent with the creation week being quite unlike our ordinary weeks with respect to duration. What, though, is the best way to understand the nature of the days of creation? It is to this question that I now turn.

An Analogical Days Approach

My own view is closest to that espoused by C. John Collins, which he calls the analogical days view.[61] Collins notes that “the best explanation is the one that takes these days as not the ordinary kind; they are instead ‘God’s workdays.’ Our workdays are not identical to them, but analogous. The purpose of the analogy is to set a pattern for the human rhythm of work and rest. The length of these days is not relevant to this purpose.”[62] An advantage of this approach is that one can understand the word “day” in its ordinary sense but apply its meaning analogically, just as we do with other analogical expressions such as the “eyes of the Lord” (in that case, we do not need to propose an alternative translation of the Hebrew word for “eye”, but rather understand its ordinary meaning in an analogical sense).

The analogical days interpretation also allows us to make sense of the Sabbath commandment in Exodus 20:8-11, in which we read,

8 “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. 9 Six days you shall labor, and do all your work, 10 but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, you, or your son, or your daughter, your male servant, or your female servant, or your livestock, or the sojourner who is within your gates. 11 For in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy.

Young-earth creationists argue that this text indicates that the creation week was comprised of six ordinary days since it is said to set a pattern for a human workweek. However, as Collins notes, “this misses two key points: the first is what we have already noticed about the creation rest being unique. The second is that our working and resting cannot be identical to God’s—they are like God’s in some way, but certainly not the same.”[63] Collins points out that there are obvious points of disanalogy between God’s workweek and ours — “For example, when was the last time you spoke and caused a plant to grow up? Rather, our planting and watering, and fertilizing are like God’s work because they operate on what’s there and make it produce something it wouldn’t have produced otherwise. Our rest is like God’s because we cease from our work for the sake of contemplating his works with pleasure.”[64] Furthermore, God is said to have rested on the Sabbath day. Collins points out that “That last word in Hebrew, ‘was refreshed,’ carries the sense of getting your breath back after being worn out (see Ex. 23:12; 2 Sam. 16:14); and I can assure you that you don’t want to say that God needs that kind of refreshment (see Isa. 40:28–31—God doesn’t get weary). Instead, we have to see it as an analogy: there are points of similarity between the two things, but also points of difference.”[65] Of course, there is also an analogy between God’s work week and the six years of sowing the land followed by a seventh year of rest (Exod 23:10-11).

One consideration that I would add to Collins’ case is that the ancients often used numbers symbolically rather than literally. For example, the evangelist Matthew refers to three sets of “fourteen generations” — from Abraham to David, from David to the exile, and from the exile to Christ (Mt 1:17) — even though he has to duplicate and skip generations to make the math work. He probably does this because fourteen is the numerical value of David’s name in Hebrew, and Matthew intends to express that Jesus is the promised Davidic heir. It seems to me, therefore, to be not much of a stretch to speculate that perhaps a similar thing is going on in Genesis 1, where the number seven is being used in a symbolic rather than literal sense.

There may also be other reasons, besides the analogy to the human workweek, why the author of Genesis chose to use the number seven. Earlier in this article, I criticized the cosmic temple view of Genesis 1 advocated by John Walton. However, one useful insight of Walton’s analysis is the parallels that he draws between the Biblical creation account and that concerning the construction of the tabernacle and temple. For example, he observes that “Isaiah 66:1 expresses clearly the temple/cosmos function in biblical theology as it identifies heaven as God’s throne and earth as his footstool, providing a resting place for him. God likewise achieves rest on the seventh day of creation, just as he takes up rest in his temple.”[66] That God takes up rest in His temple is evident from Psalm 132:13-14, in which we read, “For the LORD has chosen Zion; he has desired it for his dwelling place: ‘This is my resting place forever; here I will dwell, for I have desired it.’”

Walton further observes that “the celestial bodies are referred to using the unusual term ‘lights,’ which throughout the rest of the Pentateuch refers to the lights of the lampstand in the tabernacle.”[67] Furthermore, “the idea of rivers flowing from the holy place is found both in Genesis 2 (which we will suggest portrays Eden as the Most Holy Place) and in Ezekiel’s temple (Ezek. 47:1).”[68] Along similar lines, Michael Fishbane further argues that[69],

Indeed, as Martin Buber long ago noted, a series of key verbal parallels exists between the account of the creation of the world and the description of the building of the tabernacle in the desert (compare Genesis 1:31; 2:1; 2:2; 2:3 with Exodus 39:43; 39:32: 40:33; and 39:43, respectively). Thus, “Moses saw all the work” which the people “did” in constructing the tabernacle; “and Moses completed the work” and “blessed” the people for all their labors.

… Manifestly, then, the building of the tabernacle has been presented in the image of the creation of the world, and signified as an extension of a process begun at the creation.

Walton also points to Exodus 40:34 and 1 Kings 8:11, which indicate that the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle and temple respectively.[70] Walton compares these texts to Isaiah 6:3, which describes the vision of Isaiah in the temple, where the seraphim call out to one another, saying “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!” A yet further connection between creation and the temple is Psalm 78:69, which says, “He built his sanctuary like the high heavens, like the earth, which he has founded forever.”

Now, this is where it gets interesting in relation to the seven ‘days’ described in the creation account. G.K. Beale observes that[71],

More specifically, both accounts of the creation and building of the tabernacle are structured around a series of seven acts: cf. ‘And God said’ (Gen. 1:3, 6, 9, 14, 20, 24, 26; cf. vv. 11, 28, 29) and ‘the LORD said’ (Exod. 25:1; 30:11, 17, 22, 34; 31:1, 12) (Sailhamer 1992: 298–299). In the light of observing similar and additional parallels between the ‘creation of the world’ and ‘the construction of the sanctuary’, J. Blenkinsopp concludes that ‘the place of worship is a scaled-down cosmos’ (1992: 217–218).
Levenson also suggests that the same cosmic significance is to be seen from the fact that Solomon took seven years to build the temple (1 Kgs. 6:38), that he dedicated it on the seventh month, during the Feast of Booths (a festival of seven days [1 Kgs. 8]), and that his dedicatory speech was structured around seven petitions (1 Kgs. 8:31–55). Hence, the building of the temple appears to have been modelled on the seven-day creation of the world, which also is in line with the building of temples in seven days elsewhere in the Ancient Near East (Levenson 1988: 78–79). Just as God rested on the seventh day from his work of creation, so when the creation of the tabernacle and, especially, the temple are finished, God takes up a ‘resting place’ therein.

Perhaps, therefore, the organization of the creation account around seven days is an aspect of the intended parallels between creation and the temple or tabernacle, which would provide another reason why the number seven may be used in a symbolic sense in Genesis 1.

Are the Days of Creation Chronologically Arranged?

A further question we must address is that of whether the text of Genesis 1 requires us to take the days as being in chronological sequence, and if so, whether that raises any problems. The biggest problem with the chronological interpretation of the creation days is that photosynthetic plants are created before the sun. Indeed, the sun is not created until day four. Hugh Ross points out that technically the text does not indicate that the sun and moon came into being on the fourth day. Rather, the text only reports God saying “Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night. And let them be for signs and for seasons, and for days and years, and let them be lights in the expanse of the heavens to give light on the earth.”[72] Furthermore, “Genesis 1 employs one set of verbs for the creation of birds, mammals, humans, and the universe. These verbs — baraasa, and yasar — mean ‘create,’ ‘make,’ and ‘fashion’ or ‘form,’ respectively. Another verb, haya, means ‘exist, be, happen, or come to pass’ and is used in conjunction with the appearance of ‘light’ on day one and of the ‘lights in the expanse of the sky’ on day four.”[73] Ross suggests that this is “consistent with the creation week’s start point at the advent of light on Earth’s surface — that divinely orchestrated moment when light first penetrated the opaque medium enshrouding the primordial planet.”[74] Ross further contends that on the fourth day “God transformed Earth’s atmosphere from translucent to transparent. At that time, the Sun, Moon, and stars became visible from Earth’s surface as distinct light sources.”[75] I am not convinced by this proposal, since it seems to run into the problem of photosynthetic plants being starved of light for a significant portion of earth’s history.

An alternative scenario, proposed by C. John Collins, I find to be more attractive. Collins notes that the Hebrew verb used in Genesis 1:16, יַּ֣עַשׂ (“asa”), meaning “to make”, “does not specifically mean ‘create’; it can refer to that, but it can also refer to ‘working on something that is already there’ (hence ESV margin), or even ‘appointed.’”[76] He thus argues that “Verse 14 focuses on the function of the lights rather than on their origin: the verb let there be is completed with the purpose clause, ‘to separate.’ Hence, the account of this day’s work focuses on these lights serving a function that God appointed for the well-being of man — and that they serve that function by God’s command, which implies that it is foolish to worship them.”[77]

Besides the issue of the sun, moon and stars not being brought in until day four (which I think is satisfactorily resolved by Collins), I do not see any further chronological incompatibilities between the account in Genesis 1 and the scientific evidence.

However, if one were not persuaded by either Ross’ or Collins’ proposal, would a valid alternative approach be to postulate that the ‘days’ of creation are arranged without regard to chronology? I will now consider this question.

Many have noted that days one to three form a triad that corresponds to the triad formed by days four to six. On day one, God creates the light and distinguishes it from darkness; whereas on day four, God creates the sun, moon and stars. On day two, God separates the sky and sea; whereas, on day five, God creates birds and sea creatures. On day three, God causes dry land to appear; whereas on day six, God creates the land animals and humans. This pattern has been argued by some to indicate that the exact chronological sequence of events is not in mind here. This observation forms the basis of the literary framework view, first put forward by Johann Gottfried von Herder (1744-1803).[78] Mark Throntveit likewise argues that this structural organization of the text suggests that the sequence of days are not intended to express chronological sequence at all.[79] However, as many have rightly pointed out in response to this argument, literary framework and chronological sequence are not necessarily mutually exclusive.[80]

Another argument for taking the days to be arranged a-chronologically are the supposed contradictions between the sequence of events described in Genesis 1 and 2. I have already addressed one of those by showing that Genesis 2 focuses in on a particular geographical region. The other contradiction that is sometimes alleged is that Genesis 2:19 indicates that the creation of animals took place after mankind was on the scene, as suggested by some translations. However, Collins argues that the Hebrew verb ought to be rendered by the pluperfect “had formed”, which resolves this problem.[81]

Nonetheless, it must be recognized that the ancients did not always narrate chronologically. Sometimes they narrated events a-chronologically (though, it must be noted, without using chronological markers such as “the following day”). For example, in the temptation of Christ, which is narrated in Matthew 4 and Luke 4, the two accounts do not recount the three temptations in the same order. Matthew connects the events using the word Τότε (meaning “then”), whereas Luke connects events using the word Καὶ (meaning “and”). For this reason, I am inclined to believe that Matthew represents the events in chronological order, while Luke represents them a-chronologically. Thus, key to determining whether Genesis 1 commits its readers to interpreting it to be a chronological account of events is elucidating whether there are any concrete chronological markers in the text that would lead its original audience to believe that a sequential succession of events is being described.

In 1996, David A. Sterchi published a paper in the Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society. In this paper, he argued that while the structure and syntax of Genesis 1 does not exclude chronological sequencing, it also does not require it.[82] He points out that the first five creation days lack a definite article, though days six and seven both have a definite article. Thus, these phrases are most appropriately translated “one day . . . a second day . . . a third day . . . a fourth day . . . a ˜fifth day.” Sterchi suggests that “the text is not implying a chronological sequence of seven days. Instead it is simply presenting a list of seven days.”[83] Furthermore, he argues that “On the one hand was a commitment to the truth in reporting the account in the text. On the other was the desire to use a literary structure to further reinforce his message. One way to achieve literary freedom and still maintain truth in the process was to remove the confines of chronological syntax. So the author chose to leave the days indefinite and used the article in days six and seven for emphasis, not determination.”[84]

If the events are being narrated a-chronologically, is there any plausible hypothesis for why the creation of the sun and moon is not mentioned until day four? I believe there is. Johnny Miller and John Soden point out that the order of events between the Genesis creation account and that of the Egyptians is strikingly similar, though there are key differences, one being that the appearance of the sun is the initial and main event in the Egyptian creation myth, whereas the sun is held back until day four in the Biblical account.[85] They note that, “The issue is not so much the change in order (it is still the same, except for the appearance of plant life). Rather the use of the ‘week’ in creation instead of a single day delays the event of the sunrise from the first morning to the fourth day. The sun is no longer the dominant force or king over the gods (even though it was to “rule the day”; Gen. 1:16). The sun is just another of God’s submissive creations, doing his bidding and serving his will. The resulting picture dramatically downplays the sun, Egypt’s main actor. Instead, God clearly shines as the sovereign and transcendent ruler of creation. The climax becomes the creation of mankind as God’s representative.”[86] Relating to this motif also is the omission of names for the sun and moon, which were revered as deities by the Egyptians — these celestial bodies instead are referred to as “the greater light” and “the lesser light”.

Summary

To conclude, one cannot, in my judgment, hold to the creation ‘days’ being a series of six consecutive solar days while rejecting a young earth interpretation. While Sailhamer and Walton, among others, have attempted to do this, my assessment of their respective approaches is that they fail to harmonize this interpretation with an old earth. Furthermore, the Genesis account says nothing about the age of the Universe or the earth, since those are created before the commence of the first day of creation week. Thus, the only question that should be under evaluation is the age of the biosphere. Moreover, there are some clues in the text of Genesis 1 that are consistent with the creation week being longer than our regular weeks. One can harmonize the text of Genesis 1 with an old earth interpretation by positing the presence of gaps between each of the ‘days’ or by positing that the ‘days’ are not literal. The analogical days interpretation suggested by Collins and others is the most plausible non-literal interpretation of the days. While the structure and syntax of the passage is consistent with the days being chronologically arranged, it does not require it.

Footnotes

[1] Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1997), 570–571.

[2] John Sailhamer, Genesis Unbound: A Provoscative New Look at the Creation Account (Colorado Springs, CO: Multnomah Books, 1996), kindle.

[3] John Piper, “What Should We Teach About Creation?” Desiring God, June 1, 2010 (http://www.desiringgod.org/interviews/what-should-we-teach-about-creation)

[4] Mark Driscoll, Doctrine: What Christians Should Believe (Wheaton, IL, Crossway, 2011), 96

[5] Matt Chandler, The Explicit Gospel (Wheaton, IL, Crossway, 2012), 96-97

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Ibid.

[10] Ibid.

[11] Ibid.

[12] Ibid.

[13] John H. Walton, The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2009).

[14] Ibid., 91

[15] Ibid., 64

[16] Ibid., 92

[17] Ibid., 170.

[18] Ibid., 42.

[19] John C. Lennox, Seven Days That Divide the World: The Beginning according to Genesis and Science (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), 132.

[20] Lydia McGrew, “Review of John H. Walton’s The Lost World of Genesis One,” What’s Wrong with the World, March 12, 2015. http://whatswrongwiththeworld.net/2015/03/review_of_john_h_waltons_the_l.html

[21] John H. Walton, The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2009), 98.

[22] Ibid., 96.

[23] Ibid., 24.

[24] Ibid., 41.

[25] Ibid.

[26] Ibid.

[27] C. John Collins, “Review of John Walton, The Lost World Of Genesis One,” Reformed Academic, May 22, 2013.

[28] Michael Jones, “Genesis 1a: And God Said!” Inspiring Philosophy, June 7, 2019, YouTube video, 22:42, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R24WZ4Hvytc

[29] Ibid.

[30] John H. Walton, The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2009), 30.

[31] Ibid., 32.

[32] Ibid.

[33] Bruce Waltke, “The Creation Account in Genesis 1:1–3, Part III: The Initial Chaos Theory and the Precreation Chaos Theory,” Bibliotheca Sacra 132 (July–September 1975), 216–228.

[34] C. John Collins, Genesis 1-4: A Linguistic, Literary, and Theological Commentary (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2011), kindle.

[35] John Sailhamer, Genesis Unbound: A Provoscative New Look at the Creation Account (Colorado Springs, CO: Multnomah Books, 1996), kindle.

[36] Ibid.

[37] Bruce Waltke, “The Creation Account in Genesis 1:1–3, Part III: The Initial Chaos Theory and the Precreation Chaos Theory,” Bibliotheca Sacra 132 (July–September 1975), 216–228.

[38] Ibid.

[39] Ibid.

[40] Ibid.

[41] C. John Collins, Genesis 1-4: A Linguistic, Literary, and Theological Commentary (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2011).

[42] Ibid.

[43] The New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) opts for this translation.

[44] C. John Collins, Reading Genesis Well: Navigating History, Poetry, Science, and Truth in Genesis 1–11 (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2018), 160–161.

[45] Ibid., 161.

[46] Hugh Ross, A Matter of Days: Resolving a Creation Controversy (San Francisco, CA: RTB Press, 2015), 74.

[47] Jonathan Sarfati, Refuting Compromise: A Biblical and Scientific Refutation of “Progressive Creationism” (Billions of Years) As Popularized by Astronomer Hugh Ross (Creation Book Publishers; 2nd edition, 2011), kindle.

[48] C. John Collins, Science & Faith: Friends or Foes? (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2003), 62.

[49] Ibid., 84-85.

[50] Ibid., 85.

[51] Ibid.

[52] Saint Augustine Bishop of Hippo, The Confessions of St. Augustine, trans. E. B. Pusey (Oak Harbor, WA: Logos Research Systems, Inc., 1996)

[53] C. John Collins, Science & Faith: Friends or Foes? (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2003), 85.

[54] Ibid., 87.

[55] Ibid.

[56] Ibid., 88.

[57] Ibid.

[58] Ibid., 89.

[59] Ibid.

[60] John C. Lennox, Seven Days That Divide the World: The Beginning According to Genesis and Science (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), 54.

[61] C. John Collins, Science & Faith: Friends or Foes? (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2003), 90.

[62] Ibid., 89.

[63] Ibid., 86.

[64] Ibid.

[65] Ibid.

[66] John H. Walton, Genesis, The NIV Application Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2001), 148.

[67] Ibid.

[68] Ibid.

[69] Michael Fishbane, Text and Texture (New York: Schocken, 1979).

[70] John H. Walton, Genesis, The NIV Application Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2001), 149.

[71] G. K. Beale, The Temple and the Church’s Mission: A Biblical Theology of the Dwelling Place of God, ed. D. A. Carson, vol. 17, New Studies in Biblical Theology (Downers Grove, IL; England: InterVarsity Press; Apollos, 2004), 61.

[72] Hugh Ross, A Matter of Days: Resolving a Creation Controversy (San Francisco, CA: RTB Press, 2015), 80-82.

[73] Ibid., 82.

[74] Ibid.

[75] Ibid.

[76] C. John Collins, Genesis 1-4: A Linguistic, Literary, and Theological Commentary (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2011), kindle.

[77] Ibid.

[78] Johann Gottfried von Herder, The Spirit of Hebrew Poetry, trans. James Marsh (Burlington, Ontario: Edward Smith, 1833), 1:58. See also Gordon J. Wenham, Genesis 1–15, Word Biblical Commentary (Waco, TX: Word Books, 1987), 6–7.

[79] Mark Throntveit, “Are the Events in the Genesis Account Set Forth in Chronological Order? No,” The Genesis Debate (ed. R. Youngblood; Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1986) 36–55.

[80] John C. Lennox, Seven Days That Divide the World: The Beginning according to Genesis and Science (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011),

[81] C. John Collins, “The Wayyiqtol as ‘Pluperfect’: When and Why?” Tyndale Bulletin 46, no. 1 (1995): 117–40.

[82] David A. Sterchi, “Does Genesis 1 Provide a Chronological Sequence?” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society (December 1996), 529-536.

[83] Ibid.

[84] Ibid.

[85] Johnny V. Miller and John M. Soden, In the Beginning … We Misunderstood: Interpreting Genesis 1 in Its Original Context (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 2012), 106.

[86] Ibid.

Recommended resources related to the topic:

How Old is the Universe? (DVD), (Mp3), and (Mp4 Download) by Dr. Frank Turek 

What is God Like? Look to the Heavens by Dr. Frank Turek (DVD and Mp4

How to Interpret Your Bible by Dr. Frank Turek DVD Complete Series, INSTRUCTOR Study Guide, and STUDENT Study Guide

 

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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.

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