Family Ministry: Evaluating Garland on “Power and Roles”

In the December 2015 issue of the Gospel Advocate magazine, my article, “The Widows Church of Christ” was published.[1] It focused on my experience one summer filling in at a small congregation near Freed-Hardeman University that at the time was composed exclusively of women and widows. In the piece, I briefly retold a conversation I had with one of the sisters there, rehearsed a few biblical examples of areas of women’s evangelistic involvement, and discussed women’s role in the assembly.

A reader called my attention to share her disagreement with the following few lines:

Scripture shows that Christian women prophesied and prayed in New Testament times (1 Corinthians 11:5; Acts 22:8-9), taught the Word of God accurately (Acts 18:26), and brought people to salvation (2 Timothy 1:5; 3:14-15). Christian women also served one another in many diverse ways (1 Timothy 5:2; Titus 2:3-5; Acts 9:36-43). Too, Christian women were patrons, fellow workers for the truth, and “house church” hostesses (Romans 16:1-16).[2]

She disagreed with my assessment, but not because the early church used women in its ministry. She said, “I disagree because we [i.e. women] are stupid.” I responded, “Who told you women are stupid?” She matter-of-factly responded, “we are.” I flatly denied her claim. I do not know who taught her this, all I know is that an entire life in the church has not changed her mind. Unfortunately, this has not been my only experience.

Many women in church ask me to speak on their behalf about ideas. Why? It is not because they are shy, but because they are “women” and women have no “right to share” ideas about the church. Perhaps it is not fair to put all the blame on the church. However, if the church truly embraces a culture of female dignity and equality as image-bearers of God, and equality as recipients of salvation (Gal 3:26-28), then it would be hoped that our sisters and fellow heirs in Christ should have a better perception of themselves as women in the church and society, and as wives and mothers in the home.

The issue at hand may be reduced to one word —power. Who has the power and who does not in the family, the church, in the world? Who should? Furthermore, what is power, and is it an innate quality or something else. The late Diana A. Garland (d. 2015), former dean of the Baylor School of Social Work at Baylor University, discusses power in detail within the sociological perspective of marital relationships and the impact of biblical interpretation in a chapter of her insightful volume, Family Ministry: A Comprehensive Guide.[3]

In it, she provides a working definition of power, explores Jesus’ teaching about power in Mark 9:33-37, summarizes gender roles in the home within the American context of the last century, and offers her interpretations of certain key biblical passages (Gen 1-3; Col 3:18-19; Eph 5:21-33, 1 Pet 3:1-6; 1 Cor 7, etc). It is argued here that Garland has presented a cohesive argument regarding power and Jesus’ teaching about power, but they are not complete discussions. Furthermore, Garland presents a brief social-historical summarization of gender roles which reflects a hierarchy —a model of marital headship— that has a built-in “inferiority of women” point of view. Garland’s interpretive trajectory is built on this framework.

This is problematic because Garland generalizes this viewpoint as one that is shared across cultures and eras, which it is not; moreover, she proceeds an attempt to dispel the notion that the biblical references of marriage and family headship do not teach an “inferiority of women” model. Garland offers an egalitarian framework, but although she raises important concerns, I believe a complementarian framework is a better-supported framework for matters of church work.

Definition of Power

Defining Power

In the first place, it is important to understand Garland’s point of view on power, gender roles, and hierarchy.[4] Garland provides a working definition of power that is helpful as a starting point for the present discussion and builds her discussion of power with M. Weber’s words in mind: “the probability that one person is able to exert his or her will despite resistance from others.” Such power may be an influence on another “whether or not that influence is resisted or even recognized by any of the actors.” From this it is suggested that power is not best thought of as a personal characteristic but instead as an influence from relational dynamics; thus, “power is,” Garland concludes, “a dynamic in all family relationships. We are always attempting to influence one another.”

While she regards power as ultimately “neutral” she points out that this relationship influence may be used for good (protect the vulnerable) or for ill (take advantage of the vulnerable).

Power and Gender Hierarchy

Garland paints a picture of a community and culture which shapes a power dynamic within the family that has historically given men more power in marriage than women.[5] Similarly, family theorists David H. Olson and John DeFrain suggest: “Tradition has dictated that considerable power go to the males in the family,” and add the caveat, “but women often have more power than they or anyone else admit.”[6] Still, Garland argues that culture and economics have played a historic role in reinforcing certain gender roles in the home and the workforce.

For example, Garland argues that in “traditional” homes husbands earned a living for the family, and gave their wives “an allowance,” and the wife, in turn, managed the emotional and interpersonal relationships of the home. As an extension of the prevailing culture, the church followed suit by emphasizing strong hierarchal gender roles where men had authority and power, while women were expected to submit and obey their husbands in keeping with a military-type paradigm of authority and submission.[7]

Vulnerable and Inferior Women

This unavoidably led to what Garland speaks of as a view of hierarchy—or headship—with a built-in “inferiority of woman” model. In this view, women are vulnerable, in need of protection, in need of structure, and in need of a man to insulate them from the attacks of Satan.[8] She cites Judith Miles as her “poster child” of this viewpoint, who argues in her own work, “I was to treat my own human husband as though he were the Lord, resident in our own humble home.”[9] Consequently, she would never question her husband on anything because such was to question the Lord himself.

Unfortunately, not only did some hold that women were theologically vulnerable, but some even advocated women were emotionally not “up to the task” of ministry. The rise of a liberation movement of women stems was therefore a response to this form of hierarchy model that held an implied inferiority view of women. As the woman’s liberation movement emerged in the 1960s and 1970s, the church, according to Garland, was threatened by the rise of demands by women for better (egalitarian) family relationships.

This is Garland’s starting point: a historically rigid view of hierarchy and gender roles in society and the home as reinforced by society and church, which not only implied an “inferior woman” model but in many cases overstated the headship of man.

Inferiority Illustrated

Garland’s portrayal should not be dismissed out of hand as it relates to the American church. The relationship between culture and church is not always easily discernible. The church has been affected by this type of “inferior women” hierarchy and has been reaping the whirlwind of this type of gender oversimplification. A few examples are in order.

Roy H. Lanier, Sr., in his Contending for the Faith column, “The Problem Page,” once responded to a letter from an elder’s wife.[10] Her problem focused on her husband’s mistreatment and undermining of her maternal role based on stereotypical female “problems” (emotional and biological). His dismissive treatment of her had now trickled down to their children. Lanier’s response was extensive and centered on a demonstration from Ephesians 5:21–33 that headship does not permit, nor condone, such treatment. Lanier argued, “it is obvious that her husband does not love her as Christ loves His church.”[11]

In F. Dale Simpson’s 1972 book on leadership, Simpson addressed the problem of women in the mission field: “most married missionaries have to overcome the resistance of their wives to go to a foreign mission field.”[12] Therefore, while

women are biologically stronger than men… are as intelligent as men and more careful about details… women are not as temperamentally suited for carrying out the great commission as men.

F. Dale Simpson, Leading the First-Century Church in the Space Age

Simpson offers only his experience and his opinion about the temperament of women in the mission field.

Long-time missionary and educator, Earl D. Edwards, provides a correction based on several behavioral studies.[13] Edwards rightly points out that different genders tend to have differences that are present at birth and socially amplified; yet, such gender-specific roles (functions) are gender differences and are not a reflection of gender inferiorities or superiorities.[14]

The Struggle is Real

In short, Garland is addressing a real problem about church culture and power, and how it relates to women and wives. It strikes at the heart of a woman’s worth in the home and in the church, and in ministry in general. The church would be wise to hear her call to be alert to this problem. However, Garland does not reject a simply abusive hierarchal power within the marriage as expressed in certain stereotyped gender roles. She clearly rejects any hierarchy with a power structure within marriage—i.e., male headship is not biblical and therefore not normative biblical teaching.

Jesus’ Teaching on Power

In the second place, Garland moves toward a brief exploration of Jesus’ teaching about power in Mark 9:33–37 and uses it to frame her discussion of power dynamics within two broad Christian family contexts: gender roles and discipline.[15]

And they came to Capernaum. And when he was in the house he asked them, “What were you discussing on the way?” But they kept silent, for on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest. And he sat down and called the twelve. And he said to them, “If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all.” And he took a child and put him in the midst of them, and taking him in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me.” (Mark 9:33–37 ESV)

In this passage, Jesus’ illustrates and demonstrates the true use of power in light of the fact that the disciples had been arguing over “who was the greatest” (Mark 9:34).[16] The passage is, then, a corrective focused on “how his followers should use what they have to serve others rather than exalt themselves.”[17] Indeed, greatness is measured in service, in welcoming the smallest, least powerful, to the most vulnerable of society (Mark 9:35). Unfortunately, the disciples still did not retain the lesson since Jesus must correct them again (Mark 10:13–14); yet, Garland sees Jesus’ point as follows:

Rather than using your power to benefit yourself, use it to serve and benefit others. Order your life as Christians by protecting and caring for those most at risk of others abusing their power.[18]

Diana Garland, Family Ministry

Garland affirms that Jesus “used his own power to care for them” by completing the passion of the cross which he predicts three times (Mark 8:31; 9:30–31; 10:32–34). Power is never conserved for oneself but instead is the instrument to serve others. Elsewhere Jesus says,

The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. (Luke 22:25–26).

Garland’s Miscue

What appears to be lacking in Garland’s treatment of power in Mark 9:33–37 is the broader literary concern with discipleship in the kingdom of God which begins in Mark 8:26 and ends in Mark 10:52.[19] This is not a small matter because, in Mark 8:34, Jesus frames the discussion of true discipleship: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”

To follow Jesus means to submit to his plan, to submit to one’s role in the kingdom of God. “Discipleship… comes then with the commitment to humility and self-denial, rejection and suffering.”[20] The hard lesson the disciples continued to fail to appropriate is that the kingdom of God is at the disposal of others—especially the vulnerable—is the transformative experience of discipleship. Thus, power and one’s role are interwoven. Jesus demonstrates this by submitting to his role as God’s servant on the cross (Luke 22:42).

The matter is not simply about power and influence, for Mark 9:33–37 and Mark 10:13–16 teach that discipleship includes one’s submission to God’s transforming kingdom. It is not that Garland is wrong, but that her framing appears incomplete which, for the attention given to her work overall, is a significant oversight.

Overgeneralizations on Power and Gender Roles

In the third place, Garland generalizes that power and gender roles have been male-dominated across cultures and eras, which it is not.[21] This is an important drawback. The American church may be influenced by the surrounding culture and societal gender role expectations (even as traditional roles are presently eroding), but extrapolating from it that all cultures share a similar or comparable power structure along gender lines in families is problematic.

Cultural Anthropology

Not all cultures share the same expectations for gender roles. For example, Paul G. Hiebert, anthropologist and missionary, writes,

while most societies place some responsibility on the father for rearing the child, this is not universal. But the biological and social dependency of an infant on its mother is recognized in all social societies.[22]

Paul G. Hiebert, Cultural Anthropology

It appears that certain biological relationships (mother-child) have built-within them influences that exert power on behaviors, and while they may manifest differently in various cultures, they do not imply inferiority or lack of equality. These relationships, do, however, create forms of power management that can create a displacement of power. This is a vital element to evaluate Garland’s overarching premise that power exercised implies the inferiority of one influenced by another.

The Psychology of Parental Authority

Psychologists David G. Myers and C. Nathan DeWall describe that within parent-child relationships authority, or, power, is observable in three parenting styles: authoritarian, permissive, and authoritative.[23] The extent to which parents try to control their children is, “the most heavily researched aspect of parenting.” Parents either “set rules and expect obedience” (authoritarian) which tends to affect their children’s social skills and self-esteem. Or, they “give in to their children’s desires” (permissive) which tends to develop children who are agreeable and immature. And, parents who “are both demanding and responsive” (authoritative) tend to produce children who are well-rounded emotionally and socially.

A parent’s use, abuse, or nonuse of power can tend to have drastically different outcomes. The presumed element here in these relationships is that a parent is in a hierarchal relationship with their children (cf. Eph 6:1-4), and within this relationship, power is being managed and applied. Garland’s overarching point is that this is in principle antithetical to Jesus’ teaching on power, but power and role are inseparable. 

Family Power Management

Olson and DeFrain explore the wide range of “family power” management which is of significance here. According to them, “family power is the ability of one family member to change the behavior of the other family members.”[24] And while Garland concedes that “power” and “influence” are morally neutral, she approaches the subject of gender roles, power, and marriage from a morally negative point of view. Yet, as Olson and DeFrain point out, power —particularly family power— is a complex, dynamic interactive feature of a family system. Everyone in a family has power and everyone exerts it on the other member of the family. Even infants, according to Garland, have power. Yet, Garland suggests that a male headship hierarchy historically has mitigated women’s power in the marriage relationship, and therefore, empowers men and silences women, encouraging male power and delegitimizing female power and influence. Garland is not wrong if painting with broad strokes.

Marital Hierarchy

Garland’s argument that the removal of the hierarchy in male-female roles in marriage and family, and therefore must be applied to the church, is problematic.

Garland attempts to dispel the notion that the biblical references to marriage and family headship do not teach an “inferiority of women” model. The creation account in Genesis 1–3 “provides,” according to Garland, “the primary foundation for a hierarchical understanding of husband-wife relationships.”[25] The order of creation does not prove male headship nor female submission; instead, Garland proposes that the pre-fall notation of “them” in Genesis 1:26–31 suggests shared dominion, shared identity, and a shared name. Moreover, the woman was not simply a “helpmeet” (KJV), but instead, is a soul-mate helper who is a “bone-and-flesh mirror image of the man who remains incomplete without her.”[26]

The Hebrew term ‘ezer certainly points to a “help” that comes from someone strong (Gen 2:20), as it is used in “warrior-esque” passages (Deut 33:29; Ezek 12:14), and is even used to describe God (Exod 18:4; Psa 121:1–2, 8). Thus, this is not a chain-of-command relationship where Eve is the weaker and more vulnerable of the two.

Garland provides a view of these passages that are cohesive and within reason of the evidence, but it is in Genesis 3:16, where the trouble lies. Garland argues that change after the fall is not a curse from God, but instead a pronouncement by God of how the relationship between Adam and Eve will now be.

In her view, God is being descriptive, not prescriptive. This is not an edict that imposes a new hierarchical relationship based on gender. Observe Garland’s argument that the fall

results in dire consequences for their relationship: the husband now shall rule over the wife. This new development implies that it was not what God had originally determined for their relationship. The dominance of the husband in Genesis 3:16 is described, not prescribed… it is the consequence of their joint disobedience.

Thus, the idea of hierarchical gender relationships is nothing but “a perversion of God’s intention in creation. The partnership has been destroyed. Sin disfigures the good God offered us.“[27] A variety of authors have offered a similar take in recent years. Linda L. Belleville, for example, is certainly at the forefront of pressing this interpretive option against the traditional view of male headship from Genesis 2–3.[28] Belleville, likewise affirms:

male rule finds no explicit place in the Bible’s theology at all. Adam’s sin is noted (Rom 5:12-19; 1 Cor 15:20-22), as is Eve’s deception (2 Cor 11:3; 1 Tim 2:14). But the man’s rule over the woman is not cited even once (not even for the husband-wife relationship). The simple fact is that male rule does not reappear in the OT. The woman is nowhere commanded to obey the man (not even her husband), and the man is nowhere commanded to rule the woman (not even his wife).[29]

Belleville likewise suggests that Genesis 3:16 is a statement of the natural outcomes of the husband-wife relationship to follow due to the “fallen condition” of the world.

Garland, Headship, and the Biblical Narrative

It is the view taken here, in response to Garland––and to some degree Belleville––that Genesis 1:1–2:3 and 2:4–25 do provide the foundation for the traditional view of gender roles and should be regarded as normative.[30] The account of day six in Genesis 1 is a broad-picture passage. It speaks to the equality shared between man and woman as a distinct created order, or class, that is made in the image of God, and for this reason, have a human responsibility together to “have dominion… Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it” (Gen 1:26–28). But, when day six is given an expanded view in 2:4–25, the foundation for how human power is to be managed is explained—it is to be done in a relationship with someone just like Adam.

This power and influence are managed between husband and wife (2:20–24). And while the family power style is not explained in Genesis 2, Genesis 3:16 becomes an informative model of the way the husband-wife relationship exists outside the garden due to sin as God punished Adam (3:17–19) and the serpent (3:14–15), so God punishes Eve (3:16).

Problems with the Descriptive View

The argument that God is only describing how things will be, clearly undermines several theological themes which begin at this point. These are not mere descriptions of the fallen world.

First, God declared the serpent’s dust-filled days but also that he will feel the consequence of a crushed head by “the woman’s” offspring. This is not descriptive, this is a proclamation of Divine action and judgment upon the serpent, and salvation for humanity (John 16:11).

Second, God declared that Adam would face further hardship in the production of food and nourishment. Adam already understood work. He knew how to til and maintain the vegetation of the garden since day six (2:15). Whatever is forthcoming outside the garden for him is new and punishment for his sin. They are consequential.

And finally, God addresses Eve’s actions with further pain associated with childbearing and nuance to the relationship between her and her husband. When God says, “I will surely” do this and that, it must be interpreted as a consequence. The most pertinent here is the following, “Your desire shall be contrary to your husband, but he shall rule over you” (Gen 3:16b).

The curse upon Eve is clearly speaking of a matter of power management within the husband-wife relationship. It is the same vocabulary and issue of power management in Genesis 4:7 with Cain and his personified anger who desired to control Cain. Cain must rule over its desire. Moreover, the language is found again in the Song of Solomon, where the bride turns this “curse” into a wedding vow, “I am my beloved’s, and his desire is for me” (Song 7:10). Contrary to Belleville’s claim that the “simple fact is that male rule does not reappear in the OT,” the Bible does recognize implicitly male headship.

Biblically Grounded Patriarchy is Never Condemned

Interestingly, Old Testament scholar Bruce K. Waltke points out that of all the social injustices mentioned by the prophets of Israel, patriarchy is never mentioned among them. Following Abraham Heschel, he argues:

They challenged the injustices of their culture. The prophet is an iconoclast, challenging the apparently holy, revered and awesome beliefs cherished as certainties, institutions endowed with supreme sanctity. They exposed the scandalous pretensions, they challenged kings, priests, institutions and even the temple.[31]

Waltke is probably correct when he argues that the problem that often affects interpretation is the definitions of concepts of patriarchy and equality brought to bear on the texts of Scripture. Eve was every bit Adam’s equal. They both shared the power and authority over the creation given to them by God. That power was to be worked out in their marriage in some form of family power style.

In Genesis and throughout the rest of the Bible, the family power structure to manage power is a hierarchy, with the husband as head of the wife and as Christ head of the church (Eph 5:23). Yet, such headship does not exist in a vacuum. A husband’s headship does not exist properly without being sacrificial, loving, or nourishing. Neither does it embrace a tyrannical hold on his wife. He is to be as self-sacrificing as Jesus was and is for the church. If the husband is head of the wife as Christ is head of the church —his bride— then one should be careful in calling headship structure “a perversion of God’s intention” and a “partnership” destroyed as Garland has. For this reason, her work and view would be detrimental to family ministry.

Endnotes

  1. Jovan Payes, “The Widows Church of Christ,” Gospel Advocate 157.12 (Dec 2015): 29–30.
  2. Payes, “Widows Church of Christ,” 30.
  3. “Power and Roles” is chapter 11 in Diana R. Garland, Family Ministry: A Comprehensive Guide, 2d ed. (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2012), 370–411.
  4. Garland, Family Ministry, 370. All proceeding quotations in this paragraph are from page 370.
  5. Garland, Family Ministry, 372.
  6. David H. Olson and John DeFrain, Marriages and Families: Intimacy, Diversity, and Strengths, 4th ed. (New York, NY: McGraw-Hill, 2003), 213. Power, control, and authority are continuously exercised in families, and struggles for personal power in families are exceedingly common. 
  7. Garland, Family Ministry, 372.
  8. Garland, Family Ministry, 373.
  9. Ibid.
  10. Roy H. Lanier, Sr., “An Elder’s Wife has a Problem,” 20 Years of the Problem Page (Abilene, TX: Quality, 1984), 1:177–81.
  11. Lanier, “An Elder’s Wife,” 178.
  12. F. Dale Simpson, Leading the First-Century Church in the Space Age (Abilene, TX: Quality Printing, 1972), 121–22. 
  13. Earl D. Edwards, “The Role of Women in the Work and Worship of the Church,” Protecting Our Blind Side: A Discussion of Contemporary Concerns in churches of Christ (Henderson, TN: Hester Publications, 2007), 255–57.
  14. Edwards, “Role of Women,” 156–57.
  15. Garland, Family Ministry, 371–72.
  16. Unless otherwise stated all Scripture quotations are taken from the English Standard Version of The Holy Bible (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2001).
  17. Garland, Family Ministry, 371.
  18. Garland, Family Ministry, 371.
  19. Jovan Payes, “Leaders Stand Up for the Weak,” In My Place: The Servant Savior in Mark, ed. Douglas Y. Burleson (Delight, AR: Gospel Light, 2015), 376–77.
  20. Payes, “Leaders Stand Up,” 376.
  21. Garland, Family Ministry, 372–92.
  22. Paul G. Hiebert, Cultural Anthropology, 2d ed. (1983; repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1999), 197.
  23. David G. Myers and C. Nathan DeWall, Psychology in Everyday Life, 3rd ed. (New York, NY: Worth Publishers, 2014), 84.
  24. Olson and DeFrain, Marriage and Families, 213.
  25. Garland, Family Ministry, 374.
  26. Garland, Family Ministry, 376.
  27. Garland, Family Ministry, 376–77. Emphasis original.
  28. See Linda L. Belleville, “Women in Ministry: An Egalitarian Perspective,” Two Views on Women in Ministry, rev. ed., ed. James R. Beck (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2005), 21–103.
  29. Belleville, “Women in Ministry,” 31.
  30. Bruce K. Waltke, “The Role of Women in the Bible,” Crux 31.3 (Sept 1995): 29–40; reprinted in Bruce K. Waltke, The Dance Between God and Humanity: Reading the Bible Today as the People of God (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2013), 457–75.
  31. Waltke, “The Role of Women in the Bible,” 30.

Bibliography

Beck, James R. Editor. Two Views on Women in Ministry. Revised edition. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2005.

Edwards, Earl D. Protecting Our “Blind Side”: A Discussion of Contemporary Concerns in churches of Christ. Henderson, TN: Hester Publications, 2007.

Garland, Diana R. Family Ministry: A Comprehensive Guide. 2d edition. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2012.

Hiebert, Paul G. Cultural Anthropology. 2d edition. 1983. Repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1999.

Lanier, Roy H., Sr. 20 Years of the Problem Page. 2 volumes. Abilene, TX: Quality Publications, 1984.

Myers, David G., and C. Nathan DeWall. Psychology in Everyday Life. 3rd edition. New York, NY: Worth Publishers, 2014.

Olson, David H., and John DeFrain. Marriages and Families: Intimacy, Diversity, and Strengths. 4th edition. Boston, MA: McGraw-Hill, 2003.

Payes, Jovan. “Leaders Stand Up for the Weak.” Pages 375–81 in In My Place: The Servant Savior in Mark. Edited by Douglas Y. Burleson. Delight, AR: Gospel Light, 2015.

_____. “The Widows Church of Christ.” Gospel Advocate 157.12 (Dec 2015): 29–30.

Simpson, F. Dale. Leading the First Century Church in the Space Age. Abilene, TX: Quality Printing, 1972.

Waltke, Bruce K. The Dance Between God and Humanity: Reading the Bible Today as the People of God. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2013.

_____. “The Role of Women in the Bible.” Crux 31.3 (Sept 1995): 29–40.


A Brief Look at Patronage as Background for the New Testament

college papers

The present study is an inquiry into the interconnected reciprocal nature of patronage in the Greco-Roman imperial social setting, as one background component from the New Testament world. One would be wrong to think that such a social dynamic’s presence was minimal. In actuality, patronage and its vocabulary not only appears specifically in the New Testament (Luke 22:25; Acts 10:38; Rom 16:2; Philm 17-20, Phil 4:14-20, etc), but the social reciprocal dynamics in which its value and cultural powers are also assumed (shame, honor, unity, gratitude, fellowship, etc.). The reader who knows what to look for will see it in numerous contexts shaping the life of the body.[1] Unfortunately, the many elements vital to the matrix of patronage can only be pointed to. Yet, as Bruce J. Malina observes, it was “the most significant form of social interaction in the limited-good world of the first century is an informal principle of reciprocity, a sort of implicit, non-legal contractual obligation, unenforceable by any authority apart from one’s sense of honor and shame.”[2] The challenge in this paper is to briefly and accurately describe it.

In seeking to understand the New Testament accurately, scholars propose various exegetical principles and contextualizing models to accomplish this task.[3] The process here requires an approach which appreciates the cultural background of the New Testament to contextualize its vocabulary. This, Albert A. Bell reminds, is the “crucial part of understanding any written text.”[4] Greco-Roman words have a socially conditioned context that the modern reader may not readily identify. “Without a comprehension of the sociological dynamics of that world, our understanding… is terribly superficial at best and woefully mistaken at worst.”[5] The most crucial need for the reader of the New Testament, then, is to be able to bridge the cultural and time gap between the original (native) context and the reader’s contemporary context. This linguistic and cultural divide can be managed. In advancing a cultural-anthropological reading model, Jerome H. Neyrey argues that one can avoid ethnocentric and anachronistic readings of Paul (and the New Testament) by appreciating the difference between reading him as member of the same culture (an emic reading), and by reading him informed by the analytical and descriptive works of specialists and ethnographers (an etic reading).[6] As one gets closer to this “emic reading,” the modern reader comes closer to better appreciate the symbolic universe of Paul’s and Jesus’ culture.[7] The goal here is to gain a realistic perception from “native informants” which can illustrate and contextualize patronage as a Greco-Roman phenomenon.[8]

The presentation to follow will demonstrate how significant the social form of patronage was in the daily life of the Greco-Roman world, it will outline the vocabulary of patronage in Latin and Greek primary sources, it will sharpen this outline to differentiate between political and social patronage, and then offer a realistic scenarios that can illuminate reading the New Testament in its social and cultural world.

Daily Significance of Patronage

In modern analogy, patronage was like an ancient informal “welfare system.” Social services, like the modern model of the United States, would have been quite foreign. Instead, patronage was a cultural phenomenon in which there was a reciprocal relationship between the upper class and the lower class. It benefited lower classes with protection and patronage by means of reasonable support (legal, financial, medical, marital, etc.) for public support, the running of errands, odd jobs, escorting through streets, and providing social honor in exchange (a return). In exchange for the daily allowance (sportula), the client was at the patron’s call. Thus, it was a form of social investment between patron-client; interestingly, even slaves of wealthy households were known to have clients who hoped the slave could use their influence upon their master.[9] Greco-Roman and Christian scholarship is unequivocal about the daily and social significance of the patron-client network of relationships.[10]

Martial, in his colorful Epigrams, clocks what city life was like in the urbs (4.8.1-4): “The first and second hours wear out clients greeting their patrons.” The imagery evokes the crushing nature of the daily dependence of clients upon their patronus. A step further, Juvenal shows how important this allowance of money was for the everyday professional and collegia with his sarcastic words in the Satires (1.95-126):

For no deity is held in such reverence amongst us as Wealth; though as yet, O baneful money, thou hast no temple of thine own; not yet have we reared altars to Money in like manner as we worship Peace and Honour, Victory and Virtue, or that Concord that clatters when we salute her nest.[11]

This fits the common view that the patron-client phenomena were important to the daily life of every social stratum of the Greco-Roman world. To this point, Jérôme Carcopinodescribes that whether employed or unemployed, freedman or the parasite do-nothing, aristocrats or lower plebeians, clients “were no sooner out of bed than they were in the grip of the duties inseparable from being a ‘client.’ […] there was no man in Rome who did not feel himself bound to someone more powerful above him by the same obligations of respect, or, to use the technical term, the same obsequium.”[12] This honor-bound relationship allowed those in various professions and collegia to survive by means of this small daily “dole as their main source of revenue.”

Patronage in Latin and Greek Sources

Extant Greek and Latin sources (literary and epigraphic) speak of patronage, benefaction, and euergetism (good-doing) from political and social perspectives. Ideas such protection, assistance, help, advocacy, and philanthropy appear. Consider the following samples. It seems that patronage was initially borne out of political power and civic duty, but that distinction apparently broke down over time into a social network between the upper and lower classes in the Greco-Roman world among the rich, the poor, the freedman and freedwoman.[13]

The Roman historian Livy stretches back about four centuries to the early Roman Republic and recounts the story of Cincinnatus, the famed aristocratic plebeian consul, turn poor plebeian farmer, turn dictator, turn savior of Roman (History of Rome 3.26-29). According to Livy, his actions as dictator were reciprocated with honor and status. Livy frames (stylizes?) the response of the army as recognizing “the benefit [beneficii] they had received at his hands,” honored him with a golden crown, and “saluted him as their protector [patronum salutaverit]” (History of Rome 3.29.3). They had become his “clients,” and Cincinnatus would use this social bond to his advantage to “clear” the charges against his son Caeso who was on the run for charges of murder. The protector of Rome, then, returned his powers of dictator and returned to the rustic farm life. Later, when Augustus consolidates his power, Tacitus recounts his use of “gratuities” (donis) among the military and the poor (Annals 1.2). Michael Grant[14] interprets this as Augustus letting “it be understood that the old institution of patrons and clients had been recast, so that henceforward all the people were his own, personal clients, including the poorest citizens.” Thus, as principis Augustus and the emperors after him would portray (politically?) to the citizens of Rome and its subjects a bond of reciprocal loyalty.

Greek sources also illuminate various aspects of patronage. In the fifth century BCE, Sophocles frames the tragic Oedipus as gratefully exchanging protection from Thebes and “help [prostátisi] of the dread goddesses” who reigns in their districts, with obtaining “a great savior [sōtēr’] for this city, and troubles for my enemies” in him (Oedipus at Colunus 455-460). The Apocrypha[15] likewise points to the political upheavals in the Maccabean storyline connected to concepts of patronage. In 2 Maccabees, Simon slanders Onias, who is designated “a plotter against the government the man who was the benefactor [tòn euergétēn] of the city, the protector [tòn kēdemóna] of his compatriots, and a zealot for the laws” (4:2).[16]

In 3 Maccabees 3:13-29, “King Ptolemy Philopater” declares to his “generals and soldiers” that despite his goodwill (philanthrōpía), a desire to do good (eū poiēsaí), and to honor (timēsai) in the Jewish temple (3:15-17), the Jews “manifest ill-will toward us” and are “the only people among all nations who hold their heads high in defiance of kings and their own benefactors [euergétais], and are unwilling to regard any action as sincere” (3:19). The accommodative and benevolent king (philanthrópōs 3:20) declares that such rebellious Jews should be arrested, bound, and deported and that any who harbor them should be severely punished (3:25-29). Eventually, Philopator descends upon the Jews but is subdued by two angels. The king breaks down to pity and tears, and blames and threatens his “friends” (toís phílois):  “You are committing treason and surpassing tyrants in cruelty; and even me, your benefactor [euergétēn]” (6:24).

Political and Social Patronage in Rome

In the Greco-Roman world of the first century CE, there appears to be evidence distinguishing between political and social patronage. This can be confusing since sources often use terms like benefactor, euergetes, and patron in the process of discussion. The masculine form of the Greek prostát– (see verbal use above for “help”) is somewhat problematic. It is often considered synonymous with the Latin patronus. Interestingly, the New Testament the feminine form προστάτις is used in Romans 16:2 and translated as patron and benefactor (ESV; NIV, NRSV, HCSB). Erlend D. MacGillivray[17] takes exception to the view that these two forms are completely synonymous. The masculine appears in both Attic Greek and in the Roman Empire and carries both legal and a variety of leadership benefaction roles, but not the feminine form. MacGillivray argues that applying the masculine meaning upon prostátis is exegetically problematic for this reason. Benefaction is in view, but one must distinguish between political patronage from some interpersonal social networking.

MacGillivray argues that understanding prostátis depends, then, upon understanding the fluid nature of ancient Mediterranean reciprocal dynamics, recognizing the patron-client model is far too limiting and misleading. There is a difference between the narrow and nuanced meaning of classical patronage and the broad euergetistic/altruistic benefaction. While epigraphical gratitude evidence shows that prostátis and prostátes imply civic prestige, the nature of the evidence is, however, often weak to force synonymity. Part of the problem stems from the near normative templates in honorary Greco-Roman epigraphs that do not always neatly distinguish between the various kinds of patronage. Thus, the presence of these terms do not prove exclusively a classical patronage/patronus; consequently, MacGillivray’s work argues that prostátis and prostátes are not demonstrably synonymous.

R. A. Kearsley[18] extends this trajectory and explores several first century CE gratitude (honorarium) inscriptions shedding light on the first-century distinction between political and social patronage. These aristocratic women are named, Iunia Theodora and Claudia Metrodora, and are celebrated as female benefactors/patrons who operated in mid-first century CE Asia Minor. The cities of Lycia (Myra, Patara, Tel-messos) recount the influence of Theodora. Theodora apparently had multiple-citizenships, she freely shared her wealth, applied influenced for political and commercial purposes, and is described consistently in benefactor terms (sōphronōs, philolúkios) in Lycia. Such amounts to Theodora functioning as a social benefactor. On the other hand, Metrodora of Chiot Island likewise held multiple-citizenships, did hold political office as magistrate (stephanephoros), which required benefaction toward the people although she surpassed such requirements. She functioned in banquets, directed imperial games, gymnasiarch, public bathhouse donation, basileia in Ionia, and was praised for her public virtue. She was a benefactor as part of holding office.

Realistic Patronage Scenarios for Reading the New Testament

The above illustrations provide insight into the deep and ancient tradition of patronage and how such played out in various settings. There are two passages where patronage vocabulary is explicitly found in the New Testament.

First, in Luke, the political aspect of patronage is evident in Jesus’ counter-intuitive teaching on greatness. Jesus corrects the “greatness debate” among the disciples by saying,

“The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors [euergétai]. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves” (22:25-26).

Frederick W. Danker observes, euergétai “served as a title for rulers in Syria and Egypt… In many cases the title would conceal tyranny under extravagant expenditure” (cf. Greek Esther 16:2-3, 13-14).[19] One might argue that Jesus is taking for granted a political euergétai known to abuse such roles, and parts from the fundamental principle of the patron-client relationship: “a service performed or a favor done shall not be transformed into status and honor.”[20] Jesus’ leadership principle, then, is that one serves detached from the demands of reciprocity and the honor and status it brings (cf. Acts 10:38).[21]

Second, in Romans 16:1-2 patronage appears to have a social component. Paul commends Phoebe to the church as “a servant of the church at Cenchreae” and as one who should be helped —reciprocally— “for she has been a patron [prostátis] of many and of myself as well.” Caroline F. Whelan[22] relates this passage to the context of Roman reciprocal social conventions within associations (collegia). Whelan maintains that women not only had the Roman legal standing to operate their wealth independently of guardians, they also functioned as civic patrons for collegia. Secondly, comparable “recommendation” letters reveal two types of reciprocal relationships. There is the superior-inferior recommendation rhetoric, and two, the social-equals recommendation rhetoric; each reflecting in some sense the inherent nature of reciprocity in Rome’s social structure, the matrix of which fuses together the economic and social. Romans 16:1-2, then, points to one of these realistic scenarios. Whelan argues that the patronage between social equals (amica, friends) is probably in view. Phoebe needs Paul’s influence among those addressed in Romans 16 (thus the recommendation), but as “equals” such rhetoric is not for his own social benefit. Instead, it is a gesture of gratitude for her own social activity as a social patron (euergetistic) to the collegia of the church in Cenchrea.

Conclusion

Robert Wilken asserts: “We have a distorted view of the history of early Christianity… The historian of Christianity has given the impression that the rest of the canvas is simply background for the closeup —relegating the general history of the times to an introductory chapter of vague generalities.”[23] Hopefully, this paper provides a closer, native (emic) reading. The smaller the cultural and linguistic gap is, the more accurate the reading. May this paper accomplish its task, to gain realistic perceptions from primary sources which can illustrate and contextualize patronage as an important Greco-Roman imperial phenomenon.

Endnotes

  1. David A. deSilva, “Honor and Shame,” “Patronage,” DNTB 518-22, 766-71; Donald Walker, “Benefactor,” DNTB 157-59; Halvor Moxnes, “Patron-Client Relations and the New Community in Luke-Acts,” in The Social World of Luke-Acts, ed. J. H. Neyrey (1991; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 1993), 241-68; Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 66-69.
  2. Bruce J. Malina, The New Testament World (Louisville: John Knox, 1981), 80.
  3. Ralph P. Martin, “Approaches to New Testament Exegesis,” in New Testament Interpretation, ed. I. Howard Marshall (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1977), 220-51.
  4. Albert A. Bell, Jr., Exploring the New Testament World (Nashville: Nelson, 1998), 2.
  5. M. Robert Mulholland, Jr., “Sociological Criticism,” in Interpreting the New Testament, eds. David A. Black and David S. Dockery (Nashville: B&H, 2001), 171.
  6. Jerome H. Neyrey, Paul, In Other Words (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1990), 13.
  7. Neyrey, Paul, 14-17. Neyrey’s distinctions and concerns have value, but he makes a hardline dichotomy between Paul as one who receives supra-cultural insight (i.e., from God) and Paul as a fully incarnated product of his times (18). This distinction ignores Paul’s stated role from God. This is one of Mulholland’s four critiques of this model, it tends to be human-centered, often grounded in dynamic models foreign to the Roman world, imposes the model on the evidence, and lends itself to sociological reductionism (“Sociological Criticism,” 178-80).
  8. David A. deSilva, The Hope of Glory: Honor Discourse and New Testament Interpretation (Collegeville: Liturgical, 1999). The “native informants” are “our best instructors” (xi).
  9. Bell, Exploring the New Testament World, 191-92.
  10. Ferguson, Backgrounds, 67; Florence DuPont, Daily Life in Ancient Rome, trans. C. Woodall (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993); Micahel Grant, A Social History of Greece and Rome (New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1992).
  11. Juvenal, Satire 1.95-126, http://sourcebooks.fordham.edu/halsall/ancient/juv-sat1eng.asp.
  12. Jérôme Carcopino, Daily Life in Ancient Rome, ed. Henry T. Rowell, trans. E. O. Lorimer (1940; repr., New Haven: Yale University, 1968), 171.
  13. Grant, Social History of Greece and Rome, 30, 54, 70-76, 114-119.
  14. Grant, Social History of Greece and Rome, 75-76.
  15. See also the verbal, and substantival, usages in Wisdom 3:5, 11:5, 13, 16:2, 19:13-14; 2 Macc 8:6; 4 Macc 8:6; Greek Esther 16:2-3 = 8:12c (tōn euergetoúntōn), 13 = 8:12n (euergétēn). Of these sources, Mordecai is framed as sōtēra and euergétēn (cf. God in LXX Psa 12:6, 56:3, 114:7).
  16. Quotations for the Old Testament Apocrypha are taken from New Revised Standard Version of the Holy Bible (Nashville: Nelson, 1989). The Greek text is from Septuaginta (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1996).
  17. Erlend D. MacGillivray, “Romans 16:2, prostátis/prostátes, and the Application of Reciprocal Relationships to New Testament Texts,” NovT 53 (2011): 183-99.
  18. R. A. Kearsley, “Women in Public Life in the Roman East: Iunia Theodora, Claudia Metrodora and Phoebe, Benefactress of Paul,” TynB 50.2 (1999): 189-211.
  19. Frederick W. Danker, Jesus and the New Age According to St. Luke (St. Louis: Clayton Publishing, 1979), 222.
  20. Moxnes, “Patron-Client Relations,” 261.
  21. Halvor Moxnes, The Economy of the Kingdom (1988; repr., Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2004), 158.
  22. Caroline F. Whelan, “Amica Pauli: The Role of Phoebe in the Early Church,” JSNT 49 (1993): 67-85.
  23. Robert L. Wilken, The Christians as the Romans Saw Them (New Haven: Yale University, 1984), xiv.

Bibliography

Bell, Albert A., Jr. Exploring the New Testament World: An Illustrated Guide to the World of Jesus and the First Christians. Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1998.

Carcopino, Jérôme. Daily Life in Ancient Rome: The People and the City at the Height of the Empire. Edited by Henry T. Rowell. Translated by E. O. Lorimer. 1940. Repr., New Haven, CT: Yale University, 1968.

Danker, Frederick W. Jesus and the New Age According to St. Luke: A Commentary on the Third Gospel. 1972. Repr., St. Louis, MO: Clayton Publishing, 1979.

deSilva, David A. “Honor and Shame.” DNTB. 518-22.

deSilva, David A. The Hope of Glory: Honor Discourse and New Testament Interpretation. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1999.

deSilva, David A. “Patronage” DNTB. 766-71.

DuPont, Florence. Daily Life in Ancient Rome. Translated by Christopher Woodall. Oxford: Blackwell, 1993.

Ferguson, Everett. Backgrounds of Early Christianity. 3rd edition. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2003.

Grant, Michael. A Social History of Greece and Rome. New York, NY: Scribner’s Sons, 1992.

Kearsley, R. A. “Women in Public Life in the Roman East: Iunia Theodora, Claudia Metrodora and Phoebe, Benefactress of Paul.” TynB 50.2 (1999): 189-211.

MacGillivray, Erlend D. “Romans 16:2, prostátis/prostátes, and the Application of Reciprocal Relationships to New Testament Texts.” NovT 53 (2011): 183-99.

Malina, Bruce J. The New Testament World: Insight from Cultural Anthropology. Atlanta, GA: Knox, 1981.

Moxnes, Halvor. The Economy of the Kingdom: Social Conflict and Economic Relations in Luke’s Gospel. Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 1988. Repr., Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2004.

——-. “Patron-Client Relations and the New Community in Luke-Acts.” Pages 241-68 in The Social World of Luke-Acts: Models for Interpretation. Edited by Jerome H. Neyrey. 1991. Repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1993.

Mulholland, M. Robert, Jr. “Sociological Criticism.” Pages 170-86 in Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues. Edited by David Alan Black and David S. Dockery. Nashville, TN: B&H, 2001.

Neyrey, Jerome H. Paul, In Other Words: A Cultural Reading of His Letters. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1990.

Walker, Donald D. “Benefactor.” DNTB. 157-59.

Whelan, Caroline F. “Amica Pauli: The Role of Phoebe in the Early Church.” JSNT 49 (1993): 67-85.

Wilken, Robert L. The Christians as the Romans Saw Them. New Haven, CT: Yale University, 1984.

Regarding the Divide Between the Christ of Faith and the Jesus of History

college papers

There is a long-standing view that an impassible divide exists between the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith. This paper is about crossing this epistemic divide centered on what can be known about Jesus. Many scholars believe this divide cannot be bridged, but this paper argues that it can. This challenge reminds me of two cautionary tales.

Growing up in San Francisco, I was surrounded by bridges. Traveling northbound from the San Francisco peninsula, one crosses the Golden Gate Straight by virtue of the world-famous Golden Gate Bridge. Traveling eastbound, out of “the city,” there is the less famous double-stacked Oakland Bay Bridge, which is the workhorse among the Bay Area bridges. There are two events connected to these bridges that have taught me two relevant lessons.

First, few know that many said the Golden Gate straight could not be bridged. In fact, engineering experts said a bridge would never be built because the straight was too long, the winds were too strong, the waters would be a nightmare for construction, and the fog would further hamper the process. Yet, four years of construction (1933-1937) later, the impossible expanse was built. Sometimes, the naysayers give you the planks upon which to build your bridge.

Second, during the 6.9m 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, a large section of the top-level (outbound) of the Bay Bridge collapsed. I watched, on a small battery-powered radio/tv, a news report of a vehicle attempting to jump the divide, only to fail tragically. The vehicle had no ability to jump the gap. I learned that day that hope is not enough to cross a wide gap. We must evaluate the evidence to “look before we leap.”

Christianity and the Impassable Divide

These anecdotes inspire me to challenge the so-called “impassable” ditch at hand. It is not a small challenge, for the claim has been made by some of the sharpest minds in “thinking” history. It is, nevertheless, part of the calling of every Christian to be “prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you” (1 Pet 3:15 ESV).[1] Peter was aware that Christians will be called upon to explain the connection between their behavior and their conviction in Jesus as Lord (1 Pet 4:1-5). Life and faith converge in Jesus. What some would argue is an impassable gulf -reality and value/significance- was the connective tissues of a Christian ethical apologetic. It may be argued, then, that first-century Christians were already crossing the “impassable” bridge between the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith.

Peter anticipated no epistemic difficulty -no crisis- explaining how “Jesus as Lord” connects with significance to the everyday issues of his life and his future. Accordingly, this early text assumes that the full identity of Jesus held an immediate significance to the lives of struggling Christians. It is the result of both his historic existence and his spiritual Lordship viewed as one tightly interwoven reality. This “interwoven reality” is not, however, the view of many within the academic circles of biblical and philosophical criticism.

This issue at hand is multifaceted and complicated, but it is not insurmountable nor impassable. One must evaluate the evidence and acknowledge the complexity of the problem at hand in order to offer a solution. For instance, there is a large time-gap between today and the first-century. This raises a lot of genuine historical questions all by itself concerning sources which provide any measure of access to Jesus. Further, those ancient sources must be evaluated to test their genuineness to weigh their authenticity and accuracy to verify if they are primary or secondary sources, literary or non-literary sources. These and many other questions are used to evaluate ancient sources that allow the historian to reconstruct a probable and revisable picture of the ancient past. If the current matter were simply an issue regarding sources, then there are numerous literary sources from the first-century which point to Jesus, the events and personalities surrounding his ministry, his death, and the belief and practices of early Christians. Many have discussed and debated these sources,[2] but the tension at hand focuses on a level a bit “deeper” than literary sources (though they will be considered).

At its core, the problem at hand is epistemic; that is, it centers on “how” knowledge is obtained, how knowledge connects the self “within” (internal) to the world “without” (external).[3] David Lipe briefly summarizes it as, “the study of the origin, nature, extent and reliability of knowledge.”[4] Vergilius Ferm points out that epistemology seeks to answer the following questions:

What is the source of human knowledge? What are its limitations? How do we come by our knowledge of the external world, of ourselves, of others? How can we trust our ideas as valid?[5]

“Epistemology,” in Twentieth Century Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, ed. Lefferts A. Loetscher (Baker Books, 1955)

Schools of thought, such as empiricism and rationalism, and the debates which they create have formed the basis of the dichotomy that pits the “historical Jesus” against the Christ faith-claim. In particular, with rationalism (Decartes, Spinoza, Leibniz), mind (a priori) is regarded as being given authority/primacy over the senses (a posteriori); that is, a priori knowledge is superior to a posteriori knowledge. Conclusions drawn would be deductively reasoned knowledge such as Aristotle’s “laws of thought.” On the other hand, empiricism (Locke, Berkeley, Hume) approaches knowledge from the other direction -the senses/experience; that is, a posteriori knowledge is regarded superior to a priori knowledge. This would be inductively experienced knowledge grounded in life.[6]

Enter Immanuel Kan (1724-1804). In the late eighteenth century, Kant would attempt to split the difference by attempting to synthesize and hold both in tension. That is, we can know “how” we know something, but the knowledge is completely subjective. Knowledge is only a perception, a “representation,” and not actually real to life (the thing in-itself).[7] Kant develops the thought this way:

all our intuition is nothing but the representation of appearance; that the things that we intuit are not in themselves what we intuit them to be, nor are their relations so constituted in themselves as they appear to us; and that if we remove our own subject or even only the subjective constitution of the senses in general, then all constitution, all relations of objects in space and time, indeed space and time themselves would disappear, and as appearances they cannot exist in themselves, but only in us. What may be the case with objects in themselves and abstracted from all this receptivity of our sensibility remains entirely unknown to us.[8]

Michael Rohlf, “Immanuel Kant,” https://plato.stanford.edu/index.html

Yet, as Norman Geisler points out, Kant’s epistemology results into a self-defeating “philosophical agnosticism.”[9] Attempts like these to explain how we obtain knowledge is at the core of the so-called impassable gulf between the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith.

The Contours of the Impassable Divide

This debate fundamentally represents the struggle between connecting the tangible to the intangible, life and significance, the historic and the historical. In addition to a number of certain epistemic concerns, the divide is infused with an anti-supernatural bias which has manifested in at least five forms.[10] They are summarized briefly here, with the danger of oversimplification:

  • Gotthold E. Lessing (1729-1781) argued that there is an “ugly ditch” between historical contingent truths and the eternal necessary truths. His “ugly ditch” language has essentially framed the whole conversation.
  • Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) argued that there is a gulf between facts (contingent truths) and values (experience/reasons) that cannot be bridged but by faith (not knowledge).
  • Martin Kähler (1835-1912) expressed his concern for a reconstructed (historical) Jesus that must be mediated by the trained hands of critical scholarship. Kähler affirmed an impassable divide between the historical (reconstructed) Jesus and the historic (real) Jesus that cannot be cross unless by faith evoked by the historic Jesus. 
  • Søren Kierkegaard (1813-1855) viewed that the “historical” has no connection to the eternal, so real history is immaterial to the “leap of faith” toward the spiritual/eternal.
  • Rudolph Bultmann (1884-1976), argued that Jesus —as built on untrustworthy sources (Christian testimony, myths, and legends)— is not relevant for faith nor spiritual truth claims. It is the symbolism that matters at an existential level, that is, the meaning intended by such “sources.”

These all reflect a gap, a ditch, a divide, for which it is claimed that they cannot be bridged. It will be, then, the approach of this paper to first briefly critique the arguments for this impassable gap. Then, attention will be given to ancient sources, both within the New Testament canon and outside the New Testament canon to demonstrate that history and value claims must be intertwined to make sense of evidence. From this, provisional conclusions will be made that are reasonable and consistent with this evidence.

Critique of the Impassable Gap of the Historical Quest

The problem with the arguments used to articulate the dichotomy of the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith are typically self-defeating and beg the question at the methodological level. The “gap” issue significantly touches on the crux of the quest for historical Jesus. Albert Schweitzer (1875-1965) points to Lessing’s publication of Herman S. Reimarus’ Fragments in which Reimarus separates what the apostles said about Jesus from what Jesus said about himself.[11] Since Schweitzer, the publication of Fragments has been viewed as the early stages of the quest for the historical Jesus.

Gotthold E. Lessing

Reimarus influenced Lessing, and who in turn, affirmed a tension between the relationship of history and revelation. Lessing states this as “the ugly broad ditch”; namely, “accidental truths of history can never become the proof of necessary truths of reason [and revelation].”[12] For Lessing, a Spinozan pantheistic deist, there is no supernaturalism in the world. So, events are fortuitous (accidental) and have no meaning/significance of themselves. Why, because like Spinoza, Lessing argues that since God is immanent and extends throughout creation, he naturally governs the world with its unbreakable natural law. Accordingly, supernatural activity (miracles, providence, etc) is impossible because to do so would violate his own nature as expressed in natural law. Thus, miracles are impossible and God does not reveal himself in history. Thus, Jesus the real-person (a posteriori) is not associated with the faith-truth as the Christ (a priori) by definition. In fact, no religious claim can be absolutely true.

Lessing’s argument, however, presumes that “natural law” is inflexible. A further problem in Lessing’s epistemology is its self-defeating agnosticism that not only arbitrarily forces a divide between history and truth. For, in order to make the observation (a posteriori) that history and value (a priori) are detached from one another, Lessing must make an absolute value statement based on how history and value relate to each other historically. So, Lessing is doing what his thesis says is impossible to do: to intertwine history and evaluative judgments.

Immanuel Kant

This is essentially the same fundamental flaw in Immanuel Kant’s agnosticism (that he knows that one can perceive but not know a thing in itself). Again, Kant says,

We are acquainted with nothing except our way of perceiving them, which is peculiar to us, and which therefore does not necessarily pertain to every being, though to be sure it pertains to every human being.[13]

Quoted in Rohlf, “Immanuel Kant.”

People only know what they think they know, and what they know is not necessarily true “in itself.” This is the tension of his contradictions (“antinomies”) which, therefore, force him to reject a priori (and ontologically) arguments for believing a thing to be true in itself. For example, what is logically necessary, is not actually necessary.[14] Consequently, the Bible is not the result of God adapting to human finiteness (which is logically necessary) but is instead a book of mythology. It is not actually necessary that the Bible be from God, and such a truth claim is only a perception. Instead, what has more logical value and tangible significance to Kant is one’s duty to their neighbor.[15] Thus, the events of Jesus portrayed in the Gospels, then, is a subjective statement of a spiritual truth-claim that Jesus is the Christ of faith.

In order for Kant to make this claim (that we only know perceptions, no what is real in-itself), he is must make an absolute truth (a priori) claim in a world that he has argued can only be perceived in a subjective manner. Kant self-defeats himself by crossing the divine he denies is possible cross. Would not the argument, “I know for certain that it is impossible to know a thing in itself” argue that Kant knows this as a historical truth claim in itself? Kant derails himself.

Søren Kierkegaard

Kierkegaard argued for a dichotomy which “real history” is unimportant to faith, or rather, that it is impossible to move from the historical toward the spiritual. Kierkegaard finds no causation between a historical event and meaning (its value, or truth). In fact, this is his great paradox when it comes to truth claims since human knowledge is unable to have certainty about meaning and significance. Thus, for example, spiritual truth is beyond human rationality. For Kierkegaard seeking how to explain or understand the nature of God, one enters a paradox/contradiction. The act to explain the nature of God, is in effect, to limit a full understanding of God. To be certain about something is to limit what can be known about something.

In this sense faith —in particular, Christian faith— is a different beast altogether, for it carries within it a built-in certainty to its truth claims. In Kierkegaard’s view, it is purely nonsense that by understanding what happens in history (Jesus of history), one can obtain knowledge of the contradiction — the non-historical (Jesus of faith). Therefore, fact and history are not as important to Kierkegaard as the “leap of faith.” The problem is, as Geisler sums up, “while the historical as such does not bring one into contact wth the eternal, neither can the eternal be divorced from real history.”[16] Yet, Kiekergaard’s case proves too much on this point, for “the shift in emphasis from fact to value leads to the denial of fact and its support of faith.” It is not that all of his observations are to be dismissed, but he undermines the role of fact to understand value-claims.

Martin Kähler

Martin Kähler, who builds on Kant, also voiced his concern that the “real Christ” is not the Christ of Faith. This point is easily misunderstood. Kähler rightly argued that historical research should inform faith, so he was loved by liberals but hated by conservatives. Kähler also rejected attempts to separate the Jesus of history from the Christ of faith and was loved by conservatives and hated by liberals. He served, therefore, as a middle ground historical critic, who was “loved” and “hated” by conservative and liberals but for different reasons. Kähler coined the phrases “historical Jesus” (historische) and “historic Jesus” (geschichtliche), yet what he meant by the terms is not how most employ the term today. The “historical Jesus,” according to Kähler is a reconstructed Jesus based on scholarship which may, or may not correspond to the “historic Jesus” — that is, the real-life Jesus. Kähler took issue with equation the two.[17]

It came down to two problems. First, there is limited knowledge, or the lack thereof, to sufficiently “reconstruct” Jesus. Second, believers are at the mercy of the “fluid results” of scholarly reconstructions about Jesus. Jesus was, therefore, mediated by the elite scholars. For this reason, Kähler declares, “the real Christ, that is, the influential Christ, with whom millions in history have had fellowship in a childlike faith… is the preached Christ.”[18] The proclaimed Christ solved this problem. For this reason, Kähler made a distinction between the “historical Jesus” from the “historic Jesus.”

The line he draws on this point, between the two, is too strong and undermines the fact that the New Testament builds its case upon sources which are built on eyewitness accounts (Luke 1:1-4; Acts 1:1-3). Even if one were to argue that there is a minimal amount of authentic evidential sources about Jesus, then to that degree a faithful reconstruction of the historic Jesus can be made and understood. Which in many respects is the case for everything that could be said about Jesus of Nazareth has not been recorded (John 20:30; 21:25).

Rudolf Bultmann

One of the most significant contributors to the dichotomy of the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith is Bultmann. Bultmann’s significance for New Testament criticism and theology are, according to Ricard N. Soulen and R. Kendall Soulen, equaled by few and excelled by none in the areas of form-criticism and the practice of demythologizing the New Testament.[19] Working on his form-critical methodology, Bultmann differentiated between the sayings of Jesus and the deeds of Jesus (e.g. Reimarus), between the pre-scientific worldview of Jesus’ day and today, and the fact that to accept this worldview would be to sacrifice one’s intellect. Thus, he argued for a non-historical symbolism based upon kerygmatic (proclamation) themes.

What matters from the New Testament point of view, he argued, are the transcendent truths of faith (existential meaning). Thus, the resurrection “myth” did not happen, but what matters is the transcendent truth the “resurrection” is suppose to provide.[20] However, form-criticism, when properly applied is about finding genres and even sub-genres of types of literature within a text(s). It is not inherently anti-supernatural as Bultmann wielded it. In one way, it is a tool for genre classification. In another, it provides the framework for what tools an exegete may require for interpretation.[21]

Yet, Bultmann infused his approach with a naturalism which rejects the supernatural by definition. Consequently, at the methodological level, Bultmann begs the question that miracles are not possible and builds an interpretive framework in which miracles do not make sense. However, if one employs a theistic worldview that leaves the possibility open that miracles are possible,[22] then Bultmann’s approach would not have created his mythological approach to understanding Jesus, which his student Ernst Kasemann viewed as docetic.

Ancient Sources on Jesus of Nazareth

Turning now to consider sources within the New Testament canon and those outside the New Testament canon. The New Testament documents clearly emphasize a concern for and establish the historical underpinnings of the gospel message. It is the presentation of Jesus as a historic, and not mythic, figure which leads Edward M. Blaiklock to affirm that “Christianity triumphed over its most serious opponent, the soldiers’ worship of the soldierly Mithras, largely because Christianity could oppose to the legendary Mithras the historical reality of Christ.”[23]

Canonical Christian Sources

Broadly, though, there are three tests of historicity, according to James P. Moreland, that establish that New Testament documents are “as reliable as, superior to, most other ancient documents.”[24] These general tests are: bibliographical tests, internal tests, and external tests.

First, is the bibliographical test, which establishes the number of extant manuscripts and how far removed they are from the originals. In the case of the New Testament documents, the extant Greek manuscript copies exceed 5,000 (not including quotations, ancient translation, lectionaries), in fragmentary or complete form, many of which are from the second-century. In this regard, the New Testament is the most attested document of the ancient world.[25]

Second, the internal tests evaluate any claims of representing eyewitness history. The Gospel accounts and Acts reflect eyewitness testimony (Luke 1:1-4; 3:1-2; ). Luke tells us explicitly that his Gospel is in keeping with three aspects of early Christian testimony: preexisting accounts, earliest eyewitness testimony, and those who served to deliver the Word to the world. Moreover, Luke chronicles his involvement as a collaborator with Paul (Acts 16:10-17, 20:5-15, 21:1-18, 27:1-38, 28:1-10). The letters reflect personal encounters with Jesus (1 John 1:1-4; 2 Pet 1:16-17; 1 Cor 9:1; 15:1-11), or with those close to first-generation disciples of Jesus (Gal 1:18-19; 2:1-14).

Third, the external test verifies if there is material evidence to confirm the reliability of the document. Edwin M. Yamauchi demonstrates that despite a long-standing skepticism against the historicity of New Testament, there are numerous significant and “insignificant” confirmation of the social, political, and geographical background of the New Testament and demonstrates the literary source to be reliable.[26] One instance may illustrate these observations. In Acts 18:12-17,  Paul stands before the tribunal of the governor (proconsul) of Greece (Achaia), one L. Junius Gallio. There is an inscription was found from Delphi with Gallio’s name on it. Most likely it refers to his proconsulship during July 51 to July 52, which means Paul’s year-and-a-half stay began a year or so before this time (ca. 50-51).[27]

Non-Christian Sources

The other side of this issue is ancient testimony outside of the New Testament. Rudolf Bultmann belief that the quest for the historical Jesus lacked non-Christian sources. He ignored Christian sources specifically because they eyewitness documents which he believed inserted legendary and mythological elements, and therefore, cannot be trusted. While the extant sources are not all the kinds which a historian might like (legal documentation, birth records, etc.), what is available serve as independent literary reinforcement of that Jesus of History and Christ of faith are one interwoven as one figure.

E. M. Blaiklock surveys the sort of extant ancient sources available from the first-century. The majority of which are not focused on the region of Judea nor on history. In fact, he writes, “Bookends set a foot apart on this desk where I write would enclose the works from those significant years. Curiously, much of it comes from Spanish emigrants in Rome.”[28] Yet, what is available impressively corroborates with the historical framework of the New Testament and the significance they assert for Jesus of Nazareth.

Non-Christian sources, moreover, may be grouped into six categories of various weight and detail.[29] There are ancient historians (Tacitus, Suetonius, Josephus, Thallus), government official correspondence between (Pliny the Younger, Emperor Trajan, Emperor Hadrian), Jewish sources (Talmudic references to Jesus, Toledoth Jesu document), other Gentile sources which do not speak favorably of Christianity (Lucian, Mara Bar-Serapion), and gnostic sources (Gospel of Truth, Apocryphon of John, Treatise on Resurrection). The latter certainly have their theological slants, but they to point to Jesus as a historical figure.

Of these non-Christian sources, two sources will receive particular attention: first-century references to Jesus in the Roman historian Cornelius Tacitus (ca. AD 56-121) and Jewish historian Flavius Josephus (ca. AD 37-100).

Cornelius Tacitus

Tacitus was a Friend of Pliny and Suetonius. He began writing history in AD 98 with a volume about his father-in-law, Argicola, and another about Germany, Germania. Then early in the second-century, Tacitus published two more volumes, Histories (ca. AD 100-109) and Annals (ca. AD 109-116).[30] The Histories focus on the political troubles of Rome during A.D. 69-96, including the destruction of Jerusalem (Histories 5). The Annals chronicle the reign of Augustus to Nero (AD 14-68). In describing the depravity of the Caesars, Tacitus digresses with a note about the burning of Rome:

Consequently, to get rid of the report, Nero fastened the guilt and inflicted the most exquisite tortures on a class hated for their abominations, called Christians by the populace. Christus, from whom the name had its origin, suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Tiberius at the hands of one of our procurators, Pontius Pilatus, and a most mischievous superstition, thus checked for the moment, again broke out not only in Judaea, the first source of the evil, but even in Rome, where all things hideous and shameful from every part of the world find their centre and become popular.[31]

(Annals 15.44)

Robert L. Wilken explains the usage of the term “superstition” (Lat. superstitio) in its common and familiar sense, “the term superstition referred to beliefs and practices that were foreign and strange to the Romans… that had penetrated the Roman world from surrounding lands.”[32] This is how Tacitus and other Romans felt about such groups.

More to the point, Tacitus is a Roman historian with no interest in proving Jesus existed; however, he knew the basic facts of his death as he “suffered the extreme penalty” and during the proper time frame and location while Pilate was procurator in Judea (AD 26–36).

Flavius Josephus

Flavius Josephus is a self-described first-century Pharisee and Jewish rebel during the early Jewish rebellion against Rome, who surrendered to Rome.[33] He wrote of the Jewish and Roman dynamics of the Jewish War provides a retelling of Jewish history in Antiquities of the Jews, an autobiography (Vita), and a defense of Judaism (Against Apion). There are three references in his works which are of interest, Antiquities 18:63-64, 18.116-119 and 20.200. The latter two are rather straightforward as they reference John the Baptist and James the brother of Jesus.

The first reference is Antiquities 18.116–117, in which John the Baptist is mentioned:

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.

The reference is strikingly similar to the way the Gospel accounts outline the fate of John the Baptist (Mark 6:14-29).

The second reference is Antiquities 20.200, in which the Christian leader, James, is mentioned in passing as a digression to Josephus’s discussion of Ananus’s ambition to exercise his authority. Josephus mentions him as “the brother of Jesus, who was called Christ… James”:

Festus was now dead, and Albinus was put upon the road; so he assembled the Sanhedrin of judges, and brought before them the brother of Jesus, who was called Christ, whose name was James, and some others; and, when he had formed an accusation against them as breakers of the law, he delivered them to be stoned.

Jesus is James’s “famous” brother. The Gospel accounts describe Jesus as having siblings (Matt 13:55; Mark 6:3; John 6:42) and the apostle Paul acknowledged James as “the Lord’s brother” (Gal 1:19). Interestingly, Origen (ca. 184-253) comments on this reference, “though he [Josephus] did not accept Jesus as Christ, he yet gave testimony that the righteousness of James was so great” (Comm in Matt 10.17).[34]

The third reference, known as the Testimonium Flavianum (18:63-64), is complicated by Josephus’ favorable description of Jesus. The passage includes such descriptions of that question whether one should call Jesus “a man,” “he was [the] Christ,” “a doer of wonderful works,” “for he appeared to them [the disciples] alive again the third day,” and “as the divine prophets had foretold.” The textual strength of the passage is strong, but it appears to be out of balance with what is know about Josephus’s belief about Jesus (Origen above).

Origen, who appears knowledgeable of this material in Josephus, curiously does not seize upon the passage as it stands today. Eusebius appears to be the first ancient author to cite the testimonium in its present form (Ecclesiastical History 1.11).[35] James South argues, along with many scholars, that this passages is evidence of a tampering with the passage, the “culprit” most likely being an unknown Christian scribe.[36] The general approach, then, is to redact the passage to eliminate the positive language from the passage.[37] Like the following redaction of William Whiston’s translation:

Now, there was about this time, Jesus a wise man. He drew over to him both many of the Jews, and many of the Gentiles; and when Pilate, at the suggestion of the principal men amongst us, had condemned him to the cross, those that loved him at the first did not forsake him; and the tribe of Christians, so named from him, are not extinct at this day.

Nevertheless, historical scholarship agrees that Josephus said something about Jesus here. What is clear, though, is that Josephus, a premier historian of first-century Judea is fully aware of Jesus, as he is aware of Pilate, Herod, John the Baptist, and James.

Concluding Thoughts

A study like this needs to come to a sense of balance with regards to objectivity. Norman Geisler reminds that “if objective means, ‘a fair but revisable presentation that reasonable men and women should accept,’ then the door is open to the possibility of objectivity.”[38] The goal has been to cross the impassable epistemic gulf believed to exist between the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith. It is believed that the goal has been reached. There are just a few general observations which should be made in conclusion. First, E. P. Sanders makes an important point and warning about sifting through the available sources concerning Jesus:

Ancient history is difficult. It requires above all common sense and a good feel for sources. Our sources contain information about Jesus, but we cannot get at it by dogmatically deciding that some sentences are completely accurate and some are fiction. The truth will usually lie somewhere in between. As I have already said more than once, and may repeat several more times, we have very good knowledge of Jesus at a somewhat general level. With regard to chronology, we know that he was active during some part of the period 26-36 C.E. It is wrongheaded to try to turn the gospels – and, for that matter, Josephus – into modern encyclopaedia [sic] articles, or to suppose that one sentence is dead right, and the others are completely wrong.[39]

Only when we seek to establish by the ancient evidence what can be established historically, then we are in the position to intertwine reliable history (a posteriori) and the significance (a priori) of the life of Jesus of Nazareth. The impossible bridge, then has been made. Second, despite the complexity of historic inquiry, a worldview and framework can be articulated that is objective and not be anti-supernatural.

Third, both Christian and non-Christian sources do provide evidence and information that is objective and informative regarding what was believed to have occurred by eyewitnesses and historians. Finally, at minimum here, it can be affirmed that historical evidence points to Jesus as a “wise man” who “drew over to him both many of the Jews, and many of the Gentiles,” died under the proconsulship of “Pilate” who was influenced by the “principal men” among the Jews to condemned Jesus “to the cross;” nevertheless, Jesus had disciples “that loved him at the first who did not forsake” and they are may thought of as “tribe of Christians… so named from him… [and] … are not extinct at this day.” Bridge toll paid.

Endnotes

  1. Unless otherwise stated all quotations are taken from the English Standard Version of The Holy Bible (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2001).
  2. Gary R. Habermas, The Historical Jesus: Ancient Evidence for the Life of Christ (Joplin, MO: College Press, 1996), 187–228; F. F. Bruce, Jesus and Christian Origins Outside the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1974); Edward M. Blaiklock, Jesus Christ: Man or Myth? (1974; repr. Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1984),19–31; Craig Blomberg, The Historical Reliability of the Gospels (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1987), 190–233; Graham N. Stanton, The Gospels and Jesus (Oxford: Oxford University, 1989), 139–49.
  3. C. Stephen Evans, Pocket Dictionary of Apologetics and Philosophy of Religion (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2002), 39–40.
  4. David L. Lipe, Values in Thought and Action (Henderson, TN: Hester Publications, 2001), 7.
  5. Vergilius Ferm, “Epistemology,” in Twentieth Century Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge, ed. Lefferts A. Loetscher (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1955), 1:385.
  6. Ferm, “Epistemology,” 386.
  7. Michael Rohlf, “Immanuel Kant,” https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/kant/#TraIde.
  8. Rohlf, “Immanuel Kant.”
  9. Norman L. Geisler, Baker Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics (Grand Rapid, MI: Baker Books, 1999), 401–05.
  10. Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 141–42.
  11. Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 385–86
  12. Ricard N. Soulen and R. Kendall Soulen, Handbook of Biblical Criticism, 3rd ed. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 2001), 102.
  13. Rohlf, “Immanuel Kant.”
  14. Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 402.
  15. Lipe, Values, 78.
  16. Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 409.
  17. Soulen and Soulen, Biblical Criticism, 92.
  18. Martin Kähler, “Martin Kähler on the Historical Jesus,” in The Christian Theology Reader, 2d ed., ed. Alister E. McGrath (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2001), 294.
  19. Soulen and Soulen, Biblical Criticism, 28, Evans, Apologetics and Philosophy, 18–19.
  20. Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 517–18; Colin Brown, “Quest of Historical Jesus,” DJG 334–35.
  21. Stephen H. Travis, “Form Criticism,” in New Testament Interpretation: Essays on Principles and Methods, ed. I. Howard Marshall (1977; repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1979), 153–64.
  22. Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 320–30.
  23. Blaiklock, Jesus Christ, 11.
  24. James P. Moreland, Scaling the Secular City: A Defense of Christianity (1987; repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1988), 133–57.
  25. Moreland, Scaling the Secular City, 135-37; Philip W. Comfort, Encountering the Manuscripts: An Introduction to New Testament Paleography and Textual Criticism (Nashville, TN: Broadman & Holman, 2005), 103–98.
  26. Edwin Yamauchi, “Archaeology and the New Testament,” in The Expositor’s Bible Commentary, ed. Frank E. Gæbelein (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1979), 1:647–69.
  27. Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2003), 545-86; Mark Cartwright, “Corinth,” http://www.ancient.eu/corinth/.
  28. Blaiklock, Jesus Christ, 11-12; see, Wayne Jackson, “Jesus Christ: Myth or Genuine History,” https://www.christiancourier.com/articles/1061-jesus-christ-myth-or-genuine-history.
  29. Habermas, The Historical Jesus, 187–228; Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 381–85; James T. South, Just Jesus: The Evidence of History, Kindle ed. (Chillicothe, OH: DeWard Publications, 2012), loc. 237–555.
  30. Albert A. Bell, Exploring the New Testament World (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1998), 289.
  31. Tacitus, Annals 15.44. http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=urn:cts:latinLit:phi1351.phi005.perseus-eng1:15.44.
  32. Robert L. Wilken, The Christians as the Romans Saw Them (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1984), 50.
  33. Bell, New Testament World, 289.
  34. Origen, “Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew Book 10.” http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/101610.htm.
  35. Ken Olsen, “Eusebius Reading of the Testimonium Flavianum,” http://chs.harvard.edu/CHS/article/display/5871.
  36. South writes, “What we have here is likely a legitimate text from Josephus, in which he mentioned Jesus, but which has been re-worked by a Christian editor” (Just Jesus, loc. 318); Charles K. Barrett, New Testament Background: Selected Documents (1956; repr., New York, NY: Harper & Row, 1961), 198.
  37. Olsen, “Eusebius Reading of the Testimonium Flavianum”; Bruce, Jesus and Christian Origins, 39.
  38. Geisler, Encyclopedia of Christian Apologetics, 320–30.
  39. E. P. Sanders, The Historical Figure of Jesus (repr. London: Penguin Books, 1995), 55–56.

Bibliography

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Brown, Colin. “Quest of Historical Jesus.” DJG 326–41.

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Farnell, F. David. “Three Searches for the ‘Historical Jesus’ but no Biblical Christ (Part 2): Evangelical Participation in the Search for the ‘Historical Jesus.’” Master’s Seminary Journal 24.1 (Spring 2013): 25–67.

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Jackson, Wayne. “Jesus Christ: Myth or Genuine.” https://www.christiancourier.com/articles/1061-jesus-christ-myth-or-genuine-history.

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Moreland, James P. Scaling the Secular City: A Defense of Christianity. 1987. Repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1988.

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