He is Preparing a Place (Revelation 20–21)

On January 11, 2024January 12, 2024 By Jovan PayesIn Eschatology, Freed-Hardeman University, New Testament, Publications, Resurrection, Revelation, Theology

[This is a pre-publication version of my chapter submission for the 88th Annual Freed-Hardeman University Bible Lectureship (2024), Henderson, Tennessee. This is part of the lectureship book: Triumph of the Lamb: The Battle with Evil in Revelation (Link to book). Listen to the audio lecture as delivered here.]

When the famous New Testament scholar, A. T. Robertson (1863–1934), taught a course on interpreting Revelation, it’s been said that he walked into class with double armfuls of books which he thunderously dropped on the table and said, “Here are the various approaches to interpreting Revelation. Take your pick.”[1] Revelation 20–21 is a veritable asteroid field of perplexing questions. To minimize as much speculation as possible it will be important to consider the uniqueness of the book’s genre and its allusions to the Old Testament. God not only inspired the words but also chose the literary genre to communicate these words (2 Tim. 3:16–17; Russell 52–56).

Additionally, it is essential to understand literary movements from the situation facing the first-century church (2:1–3:22), to the challenge of belief (13:1–14:) to the imagery of God’s judgment on his enemies (19:11–21).[2] We will the be ready to appreciate God’s judgment on Satan and his followers (20:1–10), the future fate of the Beast worshippers (20:11–15), and the final vindication of the redeemed in the heavens (21:1–27).

EXEGESIS

Genre, Allusions, and Literary Movement

First, some brief comments are needed with regard to genre. There seems to be no single genre that perfectly represents the complexity of Revelation. Suggested by its opening, it is necessary to accept the interplay between prophetic expectations, apocalyptic imagery, and its epistolary immediacy to the seven churches of Asia Minor (1:4–8; Carson and Moo 713–16). Prophetic literature appears to be the common genre assumption to the book due to its intertextual echoes of the Hebrew prophets (1:1; cf. Daniel, Ezekiel, Zechariah), but its drama is framed by visionary language (apocalyptic) not historical realism (Ryken 165–66).

Apocalyptic language is a special type of visionary literature which graphically portrays the future vindication of God’s people. They typically suffer at the hands of God’s enemies, and are called to hope as God destroys the present order and establishes his kingdom (1:1; Placher, Mouw, Peters 347). Although the language is highly visual, it is not ahistorical. Finally, Revelation’s opening and closing demonstrates it functioned as an occasional circular epistle among a specific group of churches (1:4–9; 2:1–3:22; 22:18–20). John’s Apocalypse addressed real historical problems facing the first-century Christians of the western Asia Minor.

Second, a significant feature of Revelation is its dense use of intertextual allusions to Old Testament texts and motifs. The imagery and story can stand on its own, but the allusions are highly informative for understanding its message. The book has more allusions to the Old Testament “than all other books of the NT put together” (Beale and Campbell 17). Some may be categorized as “clear allusions” based on their near identical language. For example, Isaiah’s “new heavens and new earth” is clearly taken to introduce the “new Jerusalem” (Isa. 65:17; 66:22; Rev. 21:1). Others may be categorized as “probable allusions” based on how uniquely traceable the idea and language is to the Old Testament. In Revelation 20:5–6, the martyrs are said to have experienced the “first resurrection” (c.f. 20:11–14). Resurrection is certainly found in the New Testament, but its motif is typically connected to Daniel 12:2–echoed by Jesus (John 5:29). The Holy Spirit guided John to establish these links to form the thought-world of Revelation to see their fulfillment, typology, or extend their meaning (Luter 463–65).[3]

Third, “structure guides the audience’s understanding of the text” (Lee 173). There are three noteworthy movements to pay attention to. The first of these movements is the “present situation” facing the first-century church exhibited in the letters “to the seven churches that are in Asia” (1:4; 2:1–3:22). [All Scripture references are from the English Standard Version unless otherwise noted.] The churches were facing pressures of first century Greco-Roman political-religious life and these are directly bound to the language of the book (Mounce 84). The second movement is found at the structural center of the book (13:1–14:20). This section creates a “moment of decision” for the reader. Will one give allegiance to Satan and his Beast, or will one worship the Lamb? John makes it abundantly clear, one’s choice will be consequential.

The final movement portrays Jesus (“the Word of God,” 19:13) riding triumphantly as the “Divine Warrior” on a white horse riding victoriously against Satan, his beast and false prophet condemning them to “the lake of fire” (Rev. 19:11–21).[4] This movement seals the fate of Satan. The ending of the “old world” of persecution, deception, and unrighteousness are quickly replaced by the “new order” of God’s righteous kingdom.

Revelation 20–21

The question of the nature of the eschatological millennium in Revelation is one of the most challenging interpretive debates throughout church history (McGinn 527–38).[5] This “end times” question is important, but not so much that it must distract from understanding the apocalyptic imagery of divine vindication, the fate of Satan and his followers, and the hope of a glorious “new” Jerusalem. Understanding the literary goal of the present chapters is our primary concern, afterwhich an approach will be offered to address the millennium question.

Following the initial failure of Satan (19:11–21), John takes his readers through four visional experiences marked by the phrase, “Then I saw…” (20:1, 4, 11; 20:1). The first vision is of the millennial incarceration of the dragon (20:1–3), the second being the millennial reign of the martyrs with Christ interrupted by the failed final coup of Satan (20:4–10), and in the third vision John sees the final fate of the living and the dead who were not written in the book of life (20:11–14). The fourth vision takes in the visual grandeur of the new holy city of Jerusalem, in the new heavens and new earth, and its extraordinary features (21:1–22:5).

The Fate of the Satan’s Rebellion (Rev. 20:1–10)

The first vision of the millennial incarceration of the dragon begins with the descent of another angelic figure from the host of heaven who carries the previously mentioned “key” to the bottomless pit (Rev. 9:1) and a great chain. The imagery of the key is used three other times to represent control or access. The exalted Christ is said to possess the “keys of Death and Hades” (1:18) and “the key of David” (3:7). An angel of God who blew the fifth trumpet who was “given the key to the shaft of the bottomless pit” and opened it (9:1–2). Throughout Revelation various angels appear to carry out various elements of God’s executive plans (Rev. 1:1; 5:11; 7:2; 8:3; 10:1; 12:7; 14:15, 17–18; 18:1, 21; 19:17). This angel chains Satan to the bottomless pit for “a thousand years” (20:2).

The idea of a “bottomless pit” reoccurs only a handful of times in Revelation but is a common trope of ancient cosmology of the underworld. References are found in the sheol references in the Old Testament (i.e., the grave, realm of the dead), non-canonical apocryphal and pseudepigraphical literature, and Greek myths of Hades and Titan myths. Such language appears in the New Testament regarding rebellious angels–complete with binding them in chains (2 Pet. 2:4; Jude 6). Jesus declares the gates of the hadean realm would not prevail against his messianic mission (Matt. 16:18–19). Satan/the Devil, surprisingly, is cast in the pit temporarily for a thousand years to prevent further deception of the nations (20:3).

Satan (adversary, accuser; 2:9) and Devil (slanderer; 2:10) appear early in Revelation and are explicitly identified as “the great dragon… that ancient serpent…the deceiver of the whole world” cast down from heaven to earth with his angels (12:9). John’s recipients already knew that Satan had placed real political and religious pressure on their churches (Smyrna 2:9–10, Pergamum 2:13, Thyatira 2:24, Philadelphia 3:9), but John reveals that his deceptive and corruptive influence is everywhere. In Revelation, Satan operates through “nesting egg” avatars. The blasphemous beast from the sea (Nero redivivus?) who marveled the world over to worship him with his claim of a resurrection (13:1–4), gave rise to the miracle-working faux-lamb beast who initiated the cultic and political allegiance to totalitarianism by worship of the image of the first beast (the Caesar cult?; 13:11–18), who then gave rise to the false prophet and his miracle working demonic spirits to manipulate the kings of the earth to war against God (16:12–16). These have all been defeated. All that remains is Satan in exile, bound to the bottomless pit.

The martyrs of Christ, then, are resurrected to reign for a thousand years (20:4–6) but are interrupted when Satan initiates a failed coup resulting in his final demise in the lake of fire (20:7–10). This second vision begins with the preparation of a judgment scene reminiscent of Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians in which he affirms that “the saints will judge the world… [and] angels” (6:2–3a). There are thrones reserved for those empowered to judge, but it is not clear who they are (Rev. 20:4). The proximity of this group to the resurrected martyrs lends strength to believe that the resurrected faithful of God will be involved in the cosmic judgment (20:4–5). This seems even more likely as the “rest of the dead did not come to life until the thousand years were ended” as they did not experience “the first resurrection” (20:5). The resurrected martyrs will be judges, priests, and reign with God in this millennia (20:6). This outcome of victory is consistent with the letters to Thyatira and Laodicea (1:5b–6; 2:26–27; 3:21), and with the baptismal language of being raised and seated with Christ (Eph. 2:6; Col. 2:15; for the resurrection see end of section).

The release of Satan points to two related facts: God is in full control and Satan is always inferior in power (20:7; cf. Job 1:6–2:10). Yet, these inevitabilities never seem to bother him! At the close of the millennial reign Satan will re-emerge with the purpose “to deceive the nations.” This time he must recruit afresh. He plans to go to battle against God’s people like Gog the chief prince of Meshech and Tubal, from the land of Magog (Ezek. 38–39). Gog and Magog are a shorthand for the ambition to “seize spoil and carry off plunder” from the vulnerable land of God’s people (Ezek. 38:10–11). God condemned Gog’s fate to be a burial in “the Valley of the Travelers, east of the sea” as a sign of his utter failure (Ezek. 39:11–16). So too, Satan/the Devil will attempt a coup but as he surrounds “the beloved city” fire from heaven consumes his forces, but he will be “thrown into the lake of fire and sulfur… tormented day and night forever and ever” (20:9–10). Satan, his avatars, nor his chicaneries ever appear again.

The Doomed Fate of the Beast Worshippers (Rev. 20:11–15)

In the third vision, John sees the final fate of those who were not written in the book of life (20:11–14). The “book of life” is first introduced in the letter to the church in Sardis as a directory of those who walk with the exalted Christ and conquer over spiritual trials (3:5). Yet, God has always had such a book, exclusion from it was a sign of impending judgment (Exod. 32:33). In Revelation, it refers to those who have succumbed to the manipulation of the beast, worshiped it, rebelled against God, and lived unclean lives of moral and spiritual corruption (13:8; 17:8; 21:27). Their fate is to experience “the second death,” which is to be thrown into the lake of fire “forever and ever” with the beast, the false prophet, and Satan/the Devil (19:20; 20:10, 14–15; 21:8).

This lake of fire is the final and permanent act of divine judgment. Previously an angel declared, “If anyone worships the beast and its image and receives a mark on his forehead or on his hand, he also will drink the wine of God’s wrath, poured full strength into the cup of his anger, and he will be tormented with fire and sulfur in the presence of the holy angels and in the presence of the Lamb” (14:9–10). While some Christians reject the idea of eternal conscious torment for the lost and rebellious, this language could not be understood otherwise. The passive verb (tormented, basanídzō), the temporal language, and the heavenly witnesses suggests an eternal conscious experience. Granted, the portrayal is framed in the apocalyptic vision, but as stated above this does suggest that such a judgment will not happen.

The order of events leading to judgment is noteworthy. A bodily resurrection precedes standing before the throne of judgment, as they were exhumed from the sea and hadean realm (20:12–13). As the cosmos was laid bare, there was no terrain or hiding spots from God’s eye, as “earth and sky fled away” from him (20:11). This post-millennial resurrection (“come to life”) of exclusively beast worshippers was accomplished by God’s power (20:5). It is thought provoking to consider that a bodily resurrection of the wicked precedes being cast into the lake of fire to experience an eternal punishment for evil done in the body. Perhaps Jesus’ words are not exaggerations for effect when he said, “fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell [gehenna]” (Matt 10:28; 18:8–9). It is startling to see that not only the wicked and lost, but even the “containers” of disembodied spirits (Death and Hades), are thrown in the lake of fire. Revelation affirms, then, that hell is God’s ultimate answer of holy justice to the corrosive problem of moral and spiritual evil. Nothing associated with evil survives the second death.

The “New” Fate of the Lamb Worshippers (Rev. 21:1–27)

The fourth vision takes in the visual grandeur of the founding and features of the new holy city of Jerusalem, in the new heavens and new earth (21:1–27). The transition is as quick as the blink of an eye. This transition is an anticipated feature of apocalyptic literature. The old world in which God’s people suffer has fallen and God will replace it with his “new” kingdom imbued with peace and righteousness (21:1). The “holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God” had been anticipated since the letter to the church in Philadelphia (3:12; 21:2). The garden in Genesis and the tabernacle reveal, for example, God’s desire to dwell with his people provided they walk in holiness with him (Gen. 2:1–3:24; Exod. 25:8; 29:45–46; Lev. 16:16). In the new Jerusalem, “the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God” (Rev. 21:3). God will share his intimate presence with his people by comforting, protecting, and ensuring the “former things have passed away” (21:4).

“New” appears in Revelation eight times. Four appear between verses 1–5. John sees the “new heavens and a new earth” (21:1), the “new Jerusalem” (21:2; 3:12), and hears God affirm “I am making all things new” (21:5). This “new” creation originates out of heaven and comes down to the plain of existence which has lost all of its features due to the immanent presence of God (20:11; 21:1).[6] Clearly, the old “heavens and the earth” (Gen. 1:1) has “passed away” along with its sea (Rev. 21:1). Nothing of the old order remains except for those who have faithfully worshiped the lamb (21:7–8, 27). It is “the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end” who declares, “It is done!” (21:6; Gen. 2:1–3). The new creation is not tenuously “very good” (Gen. 1:31; 3:1), every one evil will be in judgment (Rev. 21:8; 14:9–10).

In Revelation 16:17–17:18, there is also a declaration that God’s work is “done” (16:17). This is followed by an angel showing John the judgment of “the great prostitute” who reigns over many waters and the kings of the earth (17:1, 18). In this section, an angel from earlier reappears to lead John to see that the only city left is the “new Jerusalem,” equated as the “Bride, the wife of the Lamb” (21:9). The dueling women of Revelation (the prostitute and the bride) materialize the divergent outcomes of the dueling women of Proverbs 1–9 (Lady Wisdom and Dame Folly). John saw the combined beauty of its materials used, its impressive protective boundaries, the explicit knowledge of its citizens’ names inscribed, and the work of the apostolic office serving as its foundation (21:11–14). The materials of the new holy city are made from the various streams of the scheme of redemption woven into a tapestry of the gospel that can only be related visually by the glittering brilliance of precious jewels and stones (21:15–21). The city is pure and beautiful, and is the refreshing end of our pilgrimage (22:1–5; Heb. 4:9–10; 11:10).

Several elements seem to have surprised John about the new Jerusalem all of which are the result of the immanent presence of God (21:22–26). The Jerusalem temple where the Spirit of God dwelt has been replaced by the actual presence of “the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb” (21:22). Creation itself will lack the sun and never have night again, as God and the Lamb are its source of light (21:23). Light is the natural extension of the character of God (John 1:4–5). In this “new heavens and new earth,” as in its Isaiah counterparts (65:17; 66:22), humanity and creation will experience peaceful living and will generate glory for the express purpose of God’s praise (21:24–27; Beale and Campbell 492).

ILLUSTRATIONS

First-Century Persecution

Revelation points to a first-century church experiencing persecution. The New Testament provides evidence that like their master, the early Christians experienced rejection and religious persecution. Jesus’ death on the cross was the result of a calculated rejection by the Jewish religious establishment. The Lord told his disciples, “Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours” (John 15:20). The apostles certainly experienced persecution for their claims that Jesus fulfilled the anticipation of the messiah, and were often used as political trophies to appease the rank and file anti-Christian Jew (Acts 12:1–3). This was mostly infighting among Jews that rejected Christ and Jews that accepted Christ. Historically, Emperor Claudius (r. 41–54) expelled Jews from the city of Rome over their ongoing instigations over a certain Chrestus (i.e., Christos, Christ; Suetonius, Claudius 25; Acts 18:1–2).

Nevertheless, as Christianity expanded throughout the Greco-Roman world other forms of problems emerged. Social and religious tensions emerged as former pagans no longer participated in the placating of the gods, which made the Christian stand out (1 Pet. 4:1–19). Texts like 1 Peter reveal there were consequential reactions by the local community Christians found themselves in for not participating in traditional cultic practices, there did not seem to be a top-down Roman policy of persecution. Instead, persecution at that level was sporadic and episodic. Two notable figures were Nero in A.D. 64 and Domitian in A.D. 96. Tacitus, the Roman historian, wrote of Nero’s actions to blame the Christians for the great fire of Rome. Tacitus wrote, he “fastened the guilt and inflicted the most exquisite tortures on a class hated for their abominations, called Christians” (Annals 15.44). Domitian, on the other hand, persecuted Christians as a side-effect from their rejection of the imperial cult which affirmed that “Caesar is Lord” (McFayden 46). Such situations play into the Roman paradigm which Revelation subverts.

APPLICATIONS

The Resurrection of the Body

Scripture forces the Christian to see the bodily resurrection as an essential component of the “end times.” The language of resurrection in Revelation 20:4b–5 is particularly uncomplicated. The resurrection of the dead (beheaded) martyrs simply occurs when they “came to life” (20:4b). In Daniel, the general resurrection is framed as when many who “sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake” (12:2; cf. John 5:29). In Ezekiel, a grotesque vision of dry bones reassembling underscores not only affirms God’s creative power to make these bones live again, but also to resurrect the Judahite state dead in captivity (37:1–14).

In the history of the church, the procurator Festus summarizes the Christian claim that, “a certain Jesus, who was dead… Paul asserted to be alive” (Acts 25:19; Acts 17:32). In the early fifties, Paul likely provides the earliest Christian explanation of the bodily resurrection of Christ and its future implications for the believer (1 Cor. 15:1–8). Christ’s resurrection made him the “firstfruits” from the dead, providing hope the Christian will likewise “bear the image of the man of heaven” (1 Cor. 15:20, 49). It is impressive that the language of bodily resurrection spans the prophetic, the epistolary, and the historical genres of Scripture.

Understanding the Millennium

Revelation 20:1–10 is one short but it has become the center for many systems of belief about the end times. Revelation 20:1–10 tends to “wags the dog” of interpretation for the Apocalypse if you begin the interpretation process with an unchecked eschatological (end times) assumption(s). For this reason Frank Pack (1916–1998) observed, “The question of the millennium… has made this the most difficult portion of the Book of Revelation to understand” (45). These visions of John are “not intended to map out a linear future timeline of history but to inspire people who are suffering for their faith to persevere, whatever the time” (Tidball 244). Nevertheless, the three broad approaches have locked horns throughout church history.

The three most common are premillennialism, postmillennialism, and amillennialism (cf. McGrath 442–43; Tidball 244–45; Pack 45–48). While the most popular, premillennialism anticipates Christ’s return before the millennium inaugurated by the rapture and tribulation. It relies on a literal treatment and unnatural proof texting of scattered prophetic literature and encourages speculation of the end times contrary to Jesus’ words (Matt. 24:36, 42). Postmillennialism rose to prominence in the nineteenth century as an optimistic alternative, seeing the evangelistic mission of the church vital to the coming of Christ but it has fallen out of favor in the aftermath of the world wars. Finally, amillennialism does not hold that there is any period of history that should be marked as “the millennium,” but instead typically sees it as symbolic of the entire Christian age. This is likely the better reading of the language of Revelation than the previous two.

APPLICATION QUESTIONS

Why are the words and the literary genre important for God’s inspired purpose in writing Revelation?
Does the rich apocalyptic language suggest that there is no historical foundation behind the image? Where does Revelation point to its historical setting?
What story do you find in contemporary media (books, movies, etc.) that is compelling in the way it outlines good and evil? Which one would you use to illustrate evil vs. good to someone you know?
What is a fair speculation as to why God temporarily bound Satan and allowed him to try for one more attack on God’s people?
Eternal conscious torment of the wicked and lost is a hard topic to talk about. How does justice play a role in understanding this topic?
The new city of Jerusalem in the new heavens and new earth is said to be free of evil and corruption. Why do you think free moral beings will be able to live in a place like that and not sin?
The resurrection of the body is part of Revelation’s picture of the new heavenly existence. How does Paul’s explanation help think about the resurrection of our bodies and the end times?

ENDNOTES

Boyd Luter, “Interpreting the Book of Revelation,” Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues, eds. David A. Black and David S. Dockery (Nashville: B&H, 2001), 474.
This approach to Revelation is based on the literary chiastic structure developed in Michelle V. Lee, “A Call to Martyrdom: Function as Method and Message in Revelation,” Novum Testamentum 40.2 (1998): 164–94.
A short list of other allusions: Genesis 1:1 as the basis for “new” heavens and earth (Rev. 21:1); Isaiah throne room motif of the thrice-holy God (Isa. 6:1–7; Rev. 4–5; 20:4, 11); in Daniel, God victoriously vindicates his saints against the beasts (7:1–28; Rev. 20:7–10); the “Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end” (Rev. 21:6) alludes to similar ideas in Isaiah (44:6; 48:12); Ezekiel 37–39 as important imagery for the Gog and Magog siege of Jerusalem (Rev. 20:7–9).
David E. Aune marks this passage with strong Christological implications for the exalted Christ portrayed as the Divine Warrior who is designated with the following four “names” (317–18): (1) “Faithful and True” (19:11), (2) “he has a name written that no one knows but himself” (19:12), (3) “the Word of God” (19:14), and (4) “King of kings and Lord of lords” (19:16).
Students of the outline of Revelation will observe that 20:1–22:5 is the proper closing of this unit, as John is shown the central placement of “the river of the water of life” in the new Jerusalem sourced from the throne of God with whom they will have an unmediated communion.
John’s language here does not perfectly align with Peter’s (2 Pet. 3:8–10), but the difference can be accounted for by their different audience and purposes, but more particularly by the ways they compartmentalize different aspects of the end of the present age.

WORKS CITED

Aune, David E. “Stories of Jesus in the Apocalypse of John.” Pages 292–319 in Contours of Christology in the New Testament. Edited by Richard N. Longenecker. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2005.

Beale, G. K., and David H. Campbell. Revelation: A Shorter Commentary. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2015. Logos electronic edition.

Carson, D. A., and Douglas J. Moo. An Introduction to the New Testament. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2005.

Lee, Michelle Vidle. “A Call to Martyrdom: Function as Method and Message in Revelation.” Novum Testamentum 40.2 (1998): 164–94.

Luter, Boyd. “Interpreting the Book of Revelation.” Pages 457–80 in Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues. Edited by David Alan Black and David S. Dockery. Nashville: B&H, 2001.

McFayden, Donald. “The Occasion of the Domitian Persecution.” American Journal of Theology 24 (1920): 46–66.

McGinn, Bernard. “Revelation.” Pages 523–41 in The Literary Guide to the Bible. Edited by Robert Alter and Frank Kermode. 1987. Reprint, Cambridge: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1999.

McGrath, Alister E. Christian Theology: An Introduction. 6th ed. Malden: Wiley-Blackwell, 2017.

Mounce, Robert H. The Book of Revelation. NICNT. Edited by F. F. Bruce. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1977.

Pack, Frank. Revelation, Part 2. Austin: Sweet, 1965.

Placher, William C., Richard J. Mouw, and Ted Peters. “Where Are We Going? Eschatology.” Pages 329–65 in Essentials of Christian Theology. Edited by William C. Placher. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2003.

Russell, Walt. Playing with Fire: How the Bible Ignites Change in Your Soul. Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2000.

Ryken, Leland. How to Read the Bible as Literature. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1984.

Tidball, Derek. The Voices of the New Testament: Invitation to a Biblical Roundtable. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2016.

Symbols of Christianity

On October 16, 2023October 16, 2023 By Jovan PayesIn Church History, Church Traditions, Discipleship, Early Christianity, Jesus Studies

I was recently asked to explore various symbols related to the Christian faith. I have thought about how to share these brief notes. I decided to piece them together here for your consideration. Christians respond diversely to symbols. I am using this word as an action or icon that invites reflection on Jesus and the Christian faith.

There are creedal statements like the Old Roman Symbol (c. 215) called “symbol,” of sample of it reads:

I believe in God, the Father almighty.  And in Christ Jesus, his only Son, our Lord,  who was born of the Holy Spirit of the virgin Mary,  who was crucified under Pontius Pilate and was buried,  the third day he rose from the dead.  He ascended into heaven,  is seated at the right hand of the Father.  From there he will come to judge the living and the dead.¹

The following symbols have confessional value but they are not as direct as “I believe…” statements.

The Marks of Jesus

Injuries caused by persecution have a way of telling the story of our faith in Jesus. Paul wrote Galatians about a couple of years before AD 50 to Christians entangled in a crisis over the nature of the true Gospel message, likely just before the so-called Jerusalem Council (Acts 15).

Some had clearly been subject to the quick work of certain false teachers imposing a strong retention of Judaistic practices as essential to the faith. Paul dispatches Galatians to undo the corrupting influence of this false gospel by outlining that justification by faith in Christ was the essence of the Law, and always intended to transcend and consummate the Law. This was accomplished on the basis of the promises granted to Abraham, made operative by faith in Christ which is entered into at baptism (Gal 2:15-5:1). This new life in the Spirit provides the rule of life for the Christian (Gal 5:2-16). At the close of this letter, the apostle signs off with what appears to be words of exhaustion:

From now on let no one cause me trouble, for I bear on my body the marks of Jesus. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit, brothers. Amen. (Galatians 6:17-18 English Standard Version²)

What is remarkable is that the apostle could claim that he wore on his body “the marks of Jesus” so early in his ministry. Let me unpack this briefly. These marks (stigmata) that Paul bears (bastadzo) on his body are likely scars.³

According to Acts, during Paul’s traditional “first” mission there is one explicit case of physical violence for this early claim (Acts 13-14). There was persecution in which Paul and Barnabas were driven out of Antioch (Acts 13:50). Early in their work in Iconium, mistreatment and stoning were attempted on them by Gentiles and Jews (Acts 14:5). Later, Jews arrived in Iconium from Antioch and stoned Paul, and then they dragged his body out of the city “supposing he was dead” (Acts 14:19). He must have looked convincingly dead-or was-from the stoning when he rose up and continued his mission (Acts 14:20).

So when Paul wrote “I bear on my body the marks [scars] of Jesus” he could literally point to the scars on his body as witnesses of persecution for his service to Jesus. This would only be the beginning of his sufferings, as the Lord Jesus explains that Paul’s calling as a chosen instrument will be accompanied by suffering: “For I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name” (Acts 9:16). Paul words point to that our injuries experienced in the line of Christian duty tell the story of Jesus, his own suffering on the cross, and our faith in him as our resurrected Lord.

The Cross of Christ

In the Third Servile War (73-71 BC), rebel slaves led by Spartacus lost the war, and of the survivors all six thousand seditious slaves were crucified by General Marcus Licinius Crassus (115-53 BC) along the Appian Way in Italy. There is an irony that the symbol of the Christian faith was the Roman tool to end insurrectionists. It was a symbol of Roman power as they executed enemies of the state in one of the most humiliating public displays of power disparity.

For the executed it was a clear failure of their insurrection, as the impotence of their cause is placed on full display. Crucifixion was to execute and embarrass its victim and to announce the futility of the movement to all its followers and all who would attempt to pick up its torch. Clearly, the Jewish opponents among the leadership in Jerusalem desired to not only execute Jesus but also quell his messianic movement as others before him.

Even in the biblical text, execution by hanging was a shame and a curse:

And if a man has committed a crime punishable by death and he is put to death, and you hang him on a tree, his body shall not remain all night on the tree, but you shall bury him the same day, for a hanged man is cursed by God. You shall not defile your land that the Lord your God is giving you for an inheritance. (Deuteronomy 21:22-23)

It is remarkable that this text is equated with the shame of the cross of Christ. In Galatians, Paul writes, “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, ‘Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree’ ” (Gal 3:13). Peter and the apostles affirmed to the Jewish council that “the God of our fathers raised Jesus, whom you killed by hanging him on a tree” (Acts 5:30). Clearly, the redemptive outcome from the crucifixion of Christ transformed the value of the cross of Christ, and this is seen in Paul’s declaration to the Corinthians: “For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Cor 2:2). The cross means the humiliation of Christ, but it also means our redemption by Christ’s substitutionary death. It is to be the source of our boasting, “by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world” (Gal 6:14).

There is ample evidence that Christian persecution began early in the first century, most of it was sporadic rather than systemic. One curious example comes from an anonymous ancient antagonist who carved his aggression against a certain Christian named Alexamenos. This late second century, or early third century, carving is known as the Alexamenos Graffito, and it portrays a crucified man with the head of either a donkey or a horse and wrote around it:

ALEXAMENOS WORSHIPS [HIS?] GOD.⁴

Even when Christians were publicly shamed in graffiti, Christianity is represented by their “crucified god.” This type of ridicule from the public nevertheless shows a clear connection between the cross and the Christian Way and an early understanding of the divinity of Jesus.

It is possible that the Crucifix (the image of Jesus on the cross) as such emerged around the sixth century as a symbol of Christianity. The cross, however, has been forever paired with the proclamation of the gospel. Today it is in hospitals, as “the hospital” was invented by Christians who opened homes to care for the sick as early as the fourth century. The Red Cross as a benevolent organization uses the symbol of the cross as a symbol of compassion and concern, key beliefs of the Christian faith.

The Jesus Fish <><

The creativity of the ancient Christians is remarkable. Every now and then something of this ancient creativity finds its way back into the hands of the faithful. During the turbulent times of the 60’s and 70’s the fish symbol re-emerged as a cultural symbol of the Christian faith. But how did the fish symbol come to be used by ancient Christians?

One tradition says it goes back to times of persecution. When Christians would travel and find themselves in the company of strangers, they would draw on the ground an outline of a fish to see if they were among fellow believers.⁵ It was a symbol that veiled a hidden message: “I believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, the Savior.” The Greek word for fish (ichthus) had become an acronym for the above creedal statement.

Let’s unpack this a little more. Using our English letters to phonetically represent the Greek letters in the fish (ichthus) acronym, we have:

 i (iota) = Iesous (Jesus)
ch (chai) = Christos (Christ)
th (theta) = theos (God)
u (upsilon) = huios (son)
s (sigma) = Soter (savior)

Literally, it translates to: “Jesus Christ God Son Savior.” Sometimes it was drawn as a fish and other times as a circle with many lines like a pizza.

**Note:** Image taken from LeaderGuideBibleStudies.com

Today, the Jesus fish is a widely recognizable cultural icon of the Christian faith. It is no longer the hidden message it once was. Friend and foe know it as part of the Christian “branding.” Evolutionists, atheistic skeptics, and ufologists have even made their own mocking versions. Nevertheless, the Jesus fish is an ancient Christian symbol affirming our faith claim that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, the Savior.

Walking After His Pattern

The best image of Christ anyone will meet is the Christian who follows after the example of Jesus in the way they live their life and love their neighbor. In Peter’s letter, the apostle invites us to a life of deep commitment with the following words:

For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps. (1 Peter 2:21)

The Christians Peter is writing to are experiencing a variety of tensions in their lives with neighbors in their community challenging them, criticizing them, and perhaps even forcing them into public legal situations where they must defend themselves and their new way of life.

Here, Peter calls on the imagery of children learning to write their letters by using a stencil to copy the letters until they can write the letters on their own. In the word “example” (hupogrammon) is found this ancient practice of children learning how to write their letters.⁶ Jesus is our template, our model, our tracing paper as we learn how to live a life as a servant of Christ.

In this section of his letter (1 Pet 2:21-25), Peter quotes and alludes to the suffering servant passage of Isaiah 53 as describing and outlining how Jesus endured rejection and suffering even to the point of the cross. How Jesus faced the cross, Peter argues, is how Christians ought to face the challenges of the world they live in. In short, his willingness to suffer on the cross becomes our paradigm/model for living. Scot McKnight puts a helpful perspective on this text:

Here is an early Christian interpretation of Christ’s life that is, at the same time, an exercise in the explanation of the essence of the Christian life. This little section, in other words, is a glimpse into a Christian worldview of the first century—a world not at all like our world because of the predominance of suffering in the early church, but a worldview that retains its significance for Christian living.⁷
Scot McKnight, 1 Peter, NIVAC

As the reasons for being a Christian drift towards matters of “to be better,” “to help others,” “to find community… a family…,” or something one could obtain from a support group or self-help book, the nagging truth of Christian discipleship formed by the paradigm of Jesus and his suffering on the cross for our redemption, the church may never come to realize its primitive spirit of sacrificial consecration prepared to do likewise as the sacrificial sheep of God.

The Christian is redeemed by the suffering Christ, and it is an essential part of the Christian life to endure suffering as we serve the Christ of the gospel we proclaim and live by.

What Symbols Do You Bear?

I hope these short reflections will help you think about how we think about Jesus in our life of faith. Are we marked by sorrow, pain, or harm from following Jesus? If not pray for others who have. Perhaps you have other ways to speak of your faith. Do you glory in his cross? Do you focus on the work of Christ on the cross and what that means for the work of Christ happening in your heart? Take time to meditate on this truth.

Our symbols may need some unpacking, like the Jesus Fish, but perhaps instead of looking at it as a “cheesey” Christian pop icon, you may see it as a meaningful symbol born from persecution for simply being a Christian. Nevertheless, the only symbol of Christ that truly touches the hearts of men is that of a Christian walking in the steps of his suffering servant Jesus.

May God bless you.

Endnotes

Old Roman Symbol. ↩︎
All Scripture quotations are taken from the English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway). ↩︎
J. Louis Martyn, Galatians: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, AYB 33A (New Haven, CT: Yale, 1974), 56. ↩︎
Jen Rost suggests a broader window of c. 83 to the third century, “Alexamenos Graffito,” worldhistory.org ↩︎
Elesha Coffman, “What is the Origin of the Christian Fish Symbol?,” Christianity Today (8 Aug 2008) ↩︎
John H. Bennetch, “Exegetical Studies in 1 Peter,” BSac 99 (1942), 346. ↩︎
Scot McKnight, 1 Peter, NIVAC (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996), 168. ↩︎

The Gospels: Seven Reasons to Trust Their Reliability

On September 4, 2023February 15, 2024 By Jovan PayesIn 2022, Ancient Biography, Ancient History, Biola University, Christian Apologetics, College Papers, Early Christianity, Gospel Studies, Graduate Work, Greco-Roman World, Jesus Studies, New Testament, Research Papers, Talbot School of Theology, Theology

In the summer of 1996, I picked up a little green Gideon New Testament and began reading the gospels. At the time I was searching to see if perhaps Jesus would be the help I needed in my personal quest to leave the street gang life, overcome my dependency on illicit drug use, and establish a relationship with God. The experience had a radical impact on my hope of what was possible in my life, that I could be other than what I was, and how I could be reborn into the kingdom of God. A few days after Christmas day, I committed my life to following Jesus. In that nascent period of my emerging faith, I relied on the gospels to “tell me the story of Jesus.”

Since that time, I have immersed myself in the study of the gospels for faith and for hope, for truth, and for the renewing power of the historic Jesus who is the Christ of my faith. However, in that same period, it became clear to me that a number of sources (academic and popular) questioned the historical reliability of the Gospels (and the Bible). In this present paper, I affirm their reliability in a cumulative case, based on seven good arguments that make it more probable than not that the Gospels are historically reliable.[1]

The case will be divided into three categorical units.[2] I begin with four “ground-clearing” arguments to resolve important front-end misgivings regarding the reliability of the gospels. Second, I argue how four compositional conventions demonstrate a remarkably stable environment for writing ancient biographies of a recent figure within living memory. Then, I show how three historical features of the Gospels affirm their reliability. Finally, I offer a summation of what this abbreviated cumulative case affirms regarding the historical reliability of the Gospels.

Cumulative Argument for Reliability

There are two aspects of the present cumulative case for the reliability of the Gospels to consider before moving forward: the method and the goal. The method of a cumulative case is to use a series of individual arguments that are “less than sufficient” to bear the whole burden of a case by themselves, but together argue a compelling case that is reasonable. Former cold case detective, J. Warner Wallace, says it helps others to “see the forest for the trees.”[3] If the overlapping nature of the arguments makes for a reasonable argument, then the goal is to demonstrate that the cumulative case is more probable than the alternatives.

As an illustration, consider the colloquial commonsense argument: “If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, has a bill like a duck, then it is a duck.” These three arguments form a cumulative case that the “bird” is a duck. With this admittedly limited illustration, I point to the commonsense nature of overlapping lines of reasons and evidence, of varying weight, together to offer a big-picture argument.

Presently, then, the seven arguments below overlap to argue positively that it is reasonable and more probable (not just plausible) than not the Gospels are in general historically reliable as an ancient historical biography of a recent religious teacher (Jesus) within the living memory of his disciples. This is a threshold argument. Do the gospels crossover to the category of historically reliable? This is significant since the Gospels are our best available source for any historical picture of Jesus of Nazareth.[4]

Ground Clearing Arguments

The following arguments are treated as “ground-clearing” lines of evidence as they address “front-end” matters of reliability.[5] What extant sources are available for knowledge of Jesus? Has the text of the Gospels been preserved and reliably transmitted? Even if the textual tradition is adequate, are the translations reliable? How early are these Gospels and who wrote them? These are important questions that must be given consideration due to so many misgivings about them in popular circles.[6]

Ancient Sources for Jesus

In the first place, what sources exist to know that Jesus existed and what he said and did? Apart from the Gospels, there is a cache of early ancient non-Christian, often hostile, testimony about Jesus available from Graeco-Roman, Jewish, later Christian, and heretical and apocryphal literature within the first one hundred years.[7] The composite picture of what is known of Jesus from these sources remarkably corroborates with what is found in the four Gospel accounts: Jesus was a Jewish itinerant, miracle-working rabbi in the Roman province of Judea, who many believed was the Messiah; but he was executed under Pontius Pilate during the reign of Tiberius Caesar; his disciples believed he resurrected spreading this belief throughout the Rome. The Gospels remain the best sources for Jesus, but corroboration of their portrayal of Jesus with ancient non-Christian sources is a necessary starting place.

Reliable Transmission

Additionally, skeptic Richard Carrier, a historian of ancient Rome, lists “textual analysis” as the first stage of historical inquiry.[8] This second ground-clearing argument asserts the Gospels pass the “bibliographical test” as part of the reliable transmission of the Greek New Testament from the ancient text to the modern reader.[9] New Testament textual criticism can evaluate, detect, and correct textual corruptions due to the access of textual critics to over 5,800 Greek manuscripts, early ancient translations, and early church quotations.[10] There are two significant variants in the gospels which involve an entire passage (Mark 16:9–20; John 7:53–8:11), but these are the exception. According to Blomberg, we have “upwards of 97% of what the original writers wrote reconstructed beyond any reasonable doubt,” and the remaining 3% affects no Christian doctrine.[11] As an ancient, hand-copied group of books, the Gospels have been reliably transmitted.

Reliable English Translations

As a third argument, standard English Bible translations are sufficiently reliable for the purpose of knowing the deeds, sayings, and passion of Jesus in the Gospels. Translation is the work of transferring the meaning and ideas of words from one language into the language of a receptor language. Biblical scholar Philip W. Comfort notes that a translation “must reliably replicate the meaning of the text without sacrificing its readability.”[12] In translation theory, there are formal equivalence (“word for word”) translations (ESV, NASB), and there are dynamic equivalence (“thought for thought”) translations (NLT, CEB).[13] Additionally, there are optimal equivalence translations that seek an ideal blend of formal and dynamic methods (CSB, NIV).[14] No translation is perfect, but they typically succeed in producing a “reliable and readable” English text.

First-Century Documents

Finally, the Gospels are first-century biographical documents. Although the traditional authorship attributed to the Gospels attributed to them by the earliest Christian claim has been disputed and denied by critical scholarship, the dating given for most of the canonical gospels is within the window of “living memory” for the writing of ancient biographies about a historical figure.[15] Keener defines “living memory” as a time when “some people who knew the subject were still alive when the biographer wrote” their biography.[16] This is an ideal time to write a Gospel given the access to “better sources” and communal accountability to “document” events and sayings than a later biographer would have at their disposal. Scholarly consensus places the publication of each Gospel within the range of “living memory” of the first century. This fits within a literary period of the early Roman Empire in which concern for historical biographical accuracy peaked, roughly between the first century B.C. to the third century A.D.[17]

The Argument from Memory

In Christobiography, Craig Keener marshalls a compelling case that the Gospel biographies have many of the features of the ancient biographies. The following section seeks to condense Kenner’s overall argument. I argue for a remarkably stable environment for historical writing, with a focus on living memory and oral sources, which were adapted to write an ancient biography of a recent figure within living memory with a concern for accurate history telling.[18]

To focus the present argument, the historical preface to Luke-Acts will be used to inform and illustrate these conventions:

Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things that have been accomplished among us, just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word have delivered them to us, it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, that you may have certainty concerning the things you have been taught. (Luke 1:1–4 English Standard Version)[19]

Luke’s preface elicits the reader to anticipate that a historical narrative is forthcoming and constrained by pre-existing Jesus knowledge. Luke readily demonstrates that a historian’s use of convention to compose history is not incompatible with the doctrine of inspiration.[20] Nevertheless, here the focus is only given to how the Gospels are examples of reliably composed ancient biographical documents using the sources and conventions available to the authors.

Luke illustrates that the early church had a depository of oral tradition available to them extending back to “those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word” (Luke 1:2). The presence of oral tradition alone does not suggest stability, as it could be argued that the further away from Jerusalem over the years, the oral tradition lacked authentic “controls on the content” to prevent corruption.[21] Admittedly, this is a very complex question. It requires an appreciation that one’s memory precedes chronologically “memoir” and “oral tradition,” which brings into focus the question: how reliable was the first-generation memory of Jesus on which the Gospels are written? Part of the answer is found in the strength of the communal memory of the first generation of eyewitnesses to preserve and provide accountability to the transmission of oral tradition even if certain details were distorted, or allowable stylistic changes crept in.[22] That is to say, distortions may occur when forgetting certain details (location, timeframe), but in an organically controlled environment, memory will likely not invent new stories.

Craig Keener argues at length that memory studies “offer no reason to discount” that the Gospels, as ancient biography, “preserve substantial information about Jesus.”[23] Debates occur over how much “core” Jesus is preserved in the Gospels from the source of memory and oral tradition. The skepticism of how much ancients could remember, it should be tempered with contemporary “Westerners” use of memory to reconstruct from their own living memory, despite the natural limitations of organic memory.[24] When it comes to what the earliest disciples should have remembered, memory studies point to an expectation that the collective memory and oral tradition of the disciples should have provided a basic historical portrait of Jesus.

The retelling of the same or parallel events with stylized segments of Jesus’ teaching, the person mentioned, or details omitted, are the kinds of elements that would be found within well a preserved oral tradition and communal memory. This is particularly important for the oral teaching of Jesus in which the oral community cared more for substance (the gist) over the verbatim recollection.[25] Thus, Keener argues, there are good historical grounds for accepting the shared events, themes, teachings, and deeds of Jesus and his inner circle.[26]

Historical Arguments

The present historical arguments affirm the reliability of the Gospels. First, archaeological confirmation situates the realism of the biographical narratives. Second, early Christian letters predating the Gospels include early Christian creedal statements, possible quotations, and allusions to the teaching of Jesus.

Archaeological Corroboration

Archaeology is a precarious discipline as it does not always yield all the desired corroborating evidence for a specific event or person. Nevertheless, “evidence-based apologetics” is linked to the proper use and interpretation of archaeological findings.[27] Excavations from various cities connected to Jesus have illuminated the realism found in the Gospel narratives, but by the nature of the case, they do not confirm the supernatural deeds of Jesus.[28] It is immaterial if one’s horizon believes the Gospels exaggerate these aspects of the historical Jesus or allow for them.[29] There was a time when it was believed that archaeology could only date the birth of Christ but provide little that would illustrate Jesus’ life.[30]

Archaeology has since demonstrated places mentioned exist (e.g., Nazareth), illustrating agrarian life (mill stones, viticulture), living conditions (homes), topography, economics (Roman and Judean coins), and other socio-cultural realities.[31] In 1961, an inscription was found at Caesarea Maritimis confirming externally that Pontius Pilate was the Judean prefect during the reign of Tiberius Caesar. The realism of stories of the twelve disciples traveling by boat in the Sea of Galilee was confirmed in 1986 when a first-century fishing boat was found in the Sea of Galilee. In an impressive find, in 1968 the remains of an early first-century crucified man, named Yehohanan, were discovered in a family bone box (ossuary) found in the northern city limits of Jerusalem. This find illuminates Jewish death customs of the period, that Judean crucified victims as criminals received proper burial rites (like Jesus), instead of the claim of some that the crucified were buried in unmarked mass graves.[32]

Pre-Gospel Allusions in Paul and James

A second historical argument is made from pre-Gospel publication creedal statements, quotations, and allusion to Paul and James the Just. Paul is believed to have suffered martyrdom under Nero in Rome (A.D. 64–67).[33] In Galatians 1:11–2:10, the content of Paul’s gospel is authenticated by the earliest disciples of Jesus. In 1 Corinthians 15:1–8, Paul appeals to a pre-existing creedal statement affirming the death, burial, resurrection, and multiple resurrected appearances of Jesus (Matt 28:1–10; Luke 24:1–49). Additionally, Paul distinguishes his teaching on marital issues from known circulating instruction from Jesus (1 Cor 7:10, 12).[34] In Romans 1:1–6, is found the belief that Jesus is of Davidic lineage (Matt 1:17). In 1 Timothy 5:18, Paul cites what is likely an oral saying of Jesus that is found nearly verbatim in Luke 10:7.[35]

Additionally, James wrote an early epistle to Hebrew Christians. He was executed by high priest Ananus II during the transition from procurator Festus to Albinus (A.D. 62), alluding to the teaching of his brother Jesus.[36] Blomberg demonstrates that no epistle “contains as many passages that verbally resemble the teaching of Jesus” as James, so much so, that some believe James had access at minimum to Matthew’s sermon on the mount (Matt 5–8).[37] The resemblances seem consistent with the fluid nature of oral tradition.

These references from Paul and James, and many other letters, do not alone prove beyond the shadow of a doubt the historical reliability of the Gospels, but they do show how the Gospels fall within the continuity of pre-publication beliefs.

A Summation

The “ground clearing” arguments demonstrate that there is good ancient first-century source material that has been adequately preserved and reliably translated into English for those who would like to know about Jesus. Additionally, the oral tradition techniques and composition with available sources to write ancient history are remarkably stable to deliver the four Gospel biographies of Jesus within living memory. Finally, the external historical reliability of the Gospels is seen in the authentic writings of Paul and James, and archaeological corroboration of the realism and setting of the Gospels. I pray this cumulative case leads someone to believe that the Gospels are reliable so that one day they may come to believe in the Jesus of the Gospels.[38]

Endnotes

To be clear, I do not affirm that these are the only arguments that can be made. Nor have I included all historical “ground clearing” issues (e.g., historical methodology, etc.). I have limited the discussion to these seven arguments due to space and convenience.
These are my personal arrangements of the arguments.
Former cold-case detective, J. Warner Wallace, remarks, “cumulative case arguments are typically built on a number of pieces of evidence, each of which may be imperfect or insufficient when considered in isolation. When examined in totality, however, the case becomes strong and reasonable.” He goes on, “opponents of cumulative cases usually attack the imperfections or insufficiencies they observe in the single pieces of evidence within the larger case. But remember, each individual evidence is admittedly less than sufficient, and this has no impact on whether or not the final conclusion, given the overwhelming nature of the cumulative case, is reasonable.” See, “Intense Investigation,” Forensic Faith: A Homicide Detective Makes the Case for a More Reasonable, Evidential Christian Faith, Logos electronic ed. (Colorado Springs, CO: Cook, 2017), n.p.
Craig S. Keener, Christobiography: Memory, History, and the Reliability of the Gospels (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2019), 11.
The idea of “ground clearing” arguments is taken from a passing statement in a lecture by Craig L. Blomberg on the reliability of the Gospels. The structure of this paper relies on the selective use of Blomberg’s lectures from a Fall 2022 Biola University graduate course titled, “The Reliability of the Gospels.”
Paul Barnett likewise asserts, “our first and most basic step is to identify, date, and assess the historical value of our sources for Jesus Christ” (Finding the Historical Christ [Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2009], 11).
Craig L. Blomberg, The Historical Reliability of the Gospels, 2^nd ed. (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2007), 249–280; Barnett, Finding the Historical Christ, 11–64.
Richard C. Carrier, Proving History: Bayes’s Theorem and the Quest for the Historical Jesus, Kindle ed. (Amherst, NY: Prometheus, 2012), location 174: “We have to use the methods of textual criticism and paleography to ascertain whether a document we presently have is authentic and accurately reflects its original—since usually only copies of copies exist today.”
John Warwick Montgomery, History, Law and Christianity (1964; reprint, Irvine, CA: NRP Books, 2014), 11–13; Josh McDowell and Sean McDowell, Evidence that Demands a Verdict: Life-Changing Truth for a Skeptical World (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 2017), 46–47.
Blomberg points out it is not a fair use of the textual evidence to suggest the earlier back one goes, there will be an increase in variants (Historical Reliability, 335–36). Still, the earliest extant manuscripts are second-century papyrus fragments of Matthew 23:30–39 (P77) and John 18:31–34 and 18:37–38 (P52), and John 18:36–19:7 (P90) attesting to the early circulation of these books (Philip W. Comfort, Early Manuscripts and Modern Translations of the New Testament [Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1990], 31–71). There are witnesses to Syriac and Old Latin translations of the gospels as early as the second century (Bruce M. Metzger, The Bible in Translation: Ancient and English Versions [Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2001], 25–35). The gospels are cited or alluded to in first-to-second-century patristic literature such as Ignatius, Barnabas, Clement, Polycarp, etc. (cf. Oxford Society of Historical Theology, The New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers (reprint, Bellingham, WA: Logos Research, 2009).
Blomberg, Historical Reliability, 332–33; For his alarmist rhetoric see, Bart Ehrman, “The Copyists of the Early Christian Writings” in Misquoting Jesus: The Story Behind Who Changed the Bible and Why (New York: HarperCollins, 2005), 45–69.
Philip W. Comfort, Essential Guide to Bible Versions (Wheaton, IL: Tyndale House, 2000), 104.
Comfort, Essential Guide, 103–04.
On “optimal equivalence” see “The CSB Translation Philosophy: Optimal Equivalency” (Feb. 14, 2017).
McDowell and McDowell compare the dating ranges of the four Gospels among conservative and liberal scholarship and provide these ranges in Evidence that Demands a Verdict (42–46): Matthew (early 60s–80s; 80–100), Mark (late 50s–late 60s; 70s), Luke (early 60s–80s; 70–110), John (mid-60s–100; 90–100).
Keener, Christobiography, 2.
Keener, Christobiography, 68–103.
Due to the nature of this essay, especially this section, I am arguing the case for reliability without seeking the shortcut of appealing to “Holy Spirit-guided inspiration.” I am fully committed to the doctrine of verbal plenary inspiration. I believe God used the conventions of the day in the production of his written Word.
Unless otherwise noted Scripture quotations are from the English Standard Version of The Holy Bible (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2016).
Blomberg, Historical Reliability, 38, footnote 42: “Luke describes the composition of his Gospel according to the standard process of ancient history-writing–consulting written sources, learning from oral tradition, interviewing eyewitnesses, selecting what is deemed most important for one’s own objectives.” In Keener, Christobiography, 221–39, the two-volume work Luke-Acts is profiled as a mixture of “biohistory” with each book from a sub-category of the historical genre: Luke (ancient biography) and Acts (ancient history).
J. Ed Komoszewski, M. James Sawyer, and Daniel B. Wallace, Reinventing Jesus (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel, 2006), 30.
Komoszewski, Sawyer, and Wallace, Reinventing, 33–36.
Keener, Christobiography, 366.
Keener, Christobiography, 373. Keener points out how memories are not “videocameras… not straightforward, objective records of what happened” (374). They include constant reworking, bias, and conflation, and are vulnerable to suggestion.
Keener notes that verbatim recollection was very rare, and given the sample size of the teaching of Jesus, one should expect the kind of substance-focused material found in the Gospels (385–90). Cf. Darrell L. Bock, “The Words of Jesus in the Gospels: Live, Jive, or Memorex?” in Jesus Under Fire, eds. Michael J. Wilkins and J. P. Moreland (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1995), 74–99.
Keener, Christobiography, 384.
McDowell and McDowell, Evidence that Demands a Verdict, 416.
Blomberg, Historical Reliability, 326–27.
I. Howard Marshall explores what is meant by “historical” as whether a person named x actually existed or whether a historical reference to someone named x is more fiction than history. Additionally, he pursues his project by seeking to go from “I believe in that there was a historical person called Jesus… what, if anything can be known about this person” (I Believe in the Historical Jesus, rev. ed. [Vancouver: Regent College, 2004], 16). C. K. Barrett assesses the uncomfortableness for the modern historian reading pre-scientific literature like the Gospels largely centers on the supernatural elements that do “not so appear in his own experience.” Still, it would be a “bad historical method to rule out a priori… such events” (Jesus and the Gospel Tradition [Philadelphia, PA: Fortress, 1968], 4). See a more recent discussion on “preunderstanding” horizons in Michael R. Licona, The Resurrection of Jesus: A New Historiographical Approach (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2010), 38–50.
James H. Charlesworth, “Jesus Research and Archaeology” in The World of the New Testament: Cultural, Social, and Historical Contexts, eds. Joel B. Green and Lee Martin McDonald (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2013), 441.
Blomberg, Historical Reliability, 326–31. Charlesworth lists over one-hundred-twenty items ranging from the mundane to the illustrious (“Jesus Research,” 443–45).
Craig A. Evans, “Jesus and the Ossuaries,” Bulletin for Biblical Research 13.1 (2003): 33. The multiply attested “burial tomb tradition” (Mark 15:42–47) has been doubted by various critical scholars, like John Dominic Crossan, who believes crucifixion meant “death-without-burial” and “body-as-carrion” (Who Killed Jesus? [New York: HarperCollins, 1995], 163–68).
For Paul’s death see 1 Clement 5:5–7, 6:1; for context and historical analysis see Sean McDowell, The Fate of the Apostles: Examining the Martyrdom Accounts of the Closest Followers of Jesus (2008; reprint, New York: Routledge, 2015), 93–114.
Blomberg describes this as a “powerful confirmation of the care with which the first Christians distinguished the words of the historical Jesus from later instructions inspired by his Spirit” (Historical Reliability, 287).
Although critics do not list 1 Timothy among Paul’s authentic letters, the arguments are far from definitive and do not make Pauline authorship impossible (Martin Dibelius and Hans Conzelmann, The Pastoral Epistles, trans. Philip Buttolph and Adela Yarbro [Philadelphia, PA: Fortress, 1972], 1–5; George W. Knight, III, The Pastoral Epistles [1992; reprint, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013], 21–52).
For the death of James the Just see Josephus Antiquities 20.197–200; For context and historical analysis see Sean McDowell, The Fate of the Apostles, 115–34.
Blomberg, Historical Reliability, 292–93.
This “two decision” model is taken from Wallace, Cold-Case Christianity, 255–58.

Works Cited

Barnett, Paul. Finding the Historical Christ. After Jesus, volume 3. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2009.

Barrett, C. K. Jesus and the Gospel Tradition. Philadelphia, PA: Fortress, 1968.

Blomberg, Craig L. The Historical Reliability of the Gospels. 2^nd edition. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2007.

Bock, Darrell L. “The Words of Jesus in the Gospels: Live, Jive, or Memorex?” in Jesus Under Fire, edited by Michael J. Wilkins and J. P. Moreland, 74–99. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1995.

Carrier, Richard. Proving History: Bayes’s Theorem and the Quest for the Historical Jesus. Kindle edition. Amherst, New York: Prometheus Books, 2012.

Charlesworth, James H. “Jesus Research and Archaeology” in The World of the New Testament: Cultural, Social, and Historical Contexts, edited by Joel B. Green and Lee Martin McDonald, 439–66. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2013.

Crossan, John Dominic. Who Killed Jesus? Exposing the Roots of Antisemitism in the Gospel Story of the Death of Jesus. New York: HarperCollins, 1995.

Dibelius, Martin, and Hans Conzelmann. The Pastoral Epistles. Translated by Philip Buttolph and Adela Yarbro. Herm. Edited by Helmut Koester, et al. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1972.

Ehrman, Bart D. Misquoting Jesus: The Story Behind Who Changed the Bible and Why. New York: HarperCollins, 2005

Evans, Craig A. “Jesus and the Ossuaries.” Bulletin for Biblical Research 13.1 (2003): 21–46.

Keener, Craig S. Christobiography: Memory, History, and the Reliability of the Gospels. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2019.

Knight, George W., III. The Pastoral Epistles. NIGTC. Edited by I. Howard Marshall and W. Ward Gasque. 1992. Reprint, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013.

Komoszewski, J. Ed, M. James Sawyer, and Daniel B. Wallace. Reinventing Jesus: What the Da Vinci Code and other Novel Speculations Don’t Tell You. Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 2006.

Licona, Michael R. The Resurrection of Jesus: A New Historiographical Approach. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2010.

Marshall, I. Howard. I Believe in the Historical Jesus. Revised edition. Vancouver, BC: Regent College, 2002.

McDowell, Josh, and Sean McDowell. Evidence That Demands a Verdict: Life-Changing Truth for a Skeptical World. Nashville, TN: Nelson, 2017.

McDowell, Sean. The Fate of the Apostles: Examining the Martyrdom Accounts of the Closest Followers of Jesus. 2015. Reprint, New York: Routledge, 2018.

Montgomery, John Warwick. History, Law and Christianity. 1964. Reprint, Irvine, CA: NRP Books, 2014.

Wallace, J. Warner. Cold-Case Christianity: A Homicide Detective Investigates the Claims of the Gospels. Colorado Springs, CO: Cook, 2013.

_____. Forensic Faith: A Homicide Detective Makes the Case for a More Reasonable, Evidential Christian Faith. Colorado Springs, CO: David C Cook, 2017.

Family Ministry: Evaluating Garland on “Power and Roles”

On January 30, 2023January 31, 2023 By Jovan PayesIn 1 Timothy, 2017, Christian Leadership, family, Family Studies, Freed-Hardeman University, Genesis, Graduate Work, Jesus Studies, Mark, marriage, Marriage Studies, Research Papers, Women Studies

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

Jovan Payes, “The Widows Church of Christ,” Gospel Advocate 157.12 (Dec 2015): 29–30.
Payes, “Widows Church of Christ,” 30.
“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.
Garland, Family Ministry, 370. All proceeding quotations in this paragraph are from page 370.
Garland, Family Ministry, 372.
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.
Garland, Family Ministry, 372.
Garland, Family Ministry, 373.
Ibid.
Roy H. Lanier, Sr., “An Elder’s Wife has a Problem,” 20 Years of the Problem Page (Abilene, TX: Quality, 1984), 1:177–81.
Lanier, “An Elder’s Wife,” 178.
F. Dale Simpson, Leading the First-Century Church in the Space Age (Abilene, TX: Quality Printing, 1972), 121–22.
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.
Edwards, “Role of Women,” 156–57.
Garland, Family Ministry, 371–72.
Unless otherwise stated all Scripture quotations are taken from the English Standard Version of The Holy Bible (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2001).
Garland, Family Ministry, 371.
Garland, Family Ministry, 371.
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.
Payes, “Leaders Stand Up,” 376.
Garland, Family Ministry, 372–92.
Paul G. Hiebert, Cultural Anthropology, 2d ed. (1983; repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1999), 197.
David G. Myers and C. Nathan DeWall, Psychology in Everyday Life, 3rd ed. (New York, NY: Worth Publishers, 2014), 84.
Olson and DeFrain, Marriage and Families, 213.
Garland, Family Ministry, 374.
Garland, Family Ministry, 376.
Garland, Family Ministry, 376–77. Emphasis original.
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.
Belleville, “Women in Ministry,” 31.
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.
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.

The Humanity of Jesus the Son

On December 1, 2022December 1, 2022 By Jovan PayesIn Christology, Graduate Work, Hope International University, Jesus Studies, Patristics, Theology

The phrases Jesus Christ, the Christ of faith, the Jesus of history, and Jesus the Divine Son all reflect significant themes pertaining to the central figure of the New Testament, Jesus of Nazareth. These concepts fall within a specialized area of theology known as Christology, which is a systematic “study of Christ” based on the full biblical picture derived from scripture.

A bit more formally, this field of study speaks to the Christian endeavor to map Jesus’ placement within “time and eternity, humanity and divinity, particularity and universality.” It answers how the life of a seemingly benign first-century Jewish rabbi could be so “relevant for all people and all times” (McGrath 2017, 207).

The present discussion maps Jesus’ Son-relationship in the triune unity of God, and the nature of his humanity. It then reflects on how the humanity of Jesus is relevant to the Christian’s personal walk before God.

Jesus the Son and the Trinity

The Trinitarian Formula

The divinity of Jesus is established in many passages of the New Testament. For example, Matthew closes with an appearance of Jesus where he affirms his authority “in heaven and on earth.” With this authority, he commissions his disciples for an international burden,

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (28:18–19 NRSV). [All Scripture references are from the New Revised Standard Version unless otherwise noted.]

Three themes are clear in this passage: Jesus’ divine authority, discipleship made in baptism, and the trinitarian language of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In the early generations of the church, the above trinitarian formula would represent a highly nuanced concept of monotheism affirmed to be in continuity with the “one God” of the Hebrew Bible.

What forced early Jewish Christians to accept this nuanced view of monotheism? The answer: the character and nature of Jesus did. It is not subversive of the “oneness” of God (Deut 6:4) but depends on the New Testament’s clarification that the “one God” is not a simplistic model. As the clarification argues, the Divine Son is not God the Father, nor is he the Holy Spirit. This raises tough questions that the historical church has discussed in earnest and in conflict for generations.

How do we map this out theologically?

The Divine Son Portrayed

We turn to the presence of Jesus and how He is portrayed in relation to the Father and the Holy Spirit.

In the first century, the prologue to the Fourth Gospel (John 1:1–3, 14) affirms that the person and nature of Jesus is the driving force to reshape the whole biblical landscape of the concept of God (Gen 1:1; Exod 20:11).

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being... And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John 1:1–3a, 14)

Jesus not only pre-existed as the lógos at the time of creation (John 1:1), but he also “emptied” (ekénōsen) himself to take on the “form [morphē] of a slave”—a human (Phil 2:6–7). Leaning heavily on John 1:14, the Alexandrian theologian, Athanasius, concluded that this “human body” was taken by this same “Word of God” (Placher 2003, 184).

On this view, there was no room within this theology for Arius’ affirmation that Jesus the Son—the Word—was a created being who subsequently became divine. This view reduced Jesus to a creature impotent to redeem humanity (McGrath 2017, 217–19).

The Divine Association

As McGrath (2017, 214) chronicles, the divinity of Christ was one of the first major theological battles of the early church as it sought to hammer out its understanding of the contours of a very genuine human being in Jesus who, at the same time, was portrayed as being more than a mere human. The “battle” was not over the deity of Christ as such (that was established), but how to understand the relationship between his humanity and his divinity.

The divinity of Jesus was therefore accepted as true as his humanity—as affirmed in Chalcedon (AD 451)—which means that the question left to map out was the relationship between Jesus and the Father and the Holy Spirit.

The only way to do this is by evaluating Scripture (Jenson 2003, 194). Despite certain reservations, Jenson argues clearly that Peter’s application of the divine title “Lord” from Joel 2 (kyrios LXX) to Jesus in Acts 2:33–34 (kyrios) demonstrates that

the risen Christ, without violation of God’s singularity, does what only the God of Israel himself does, and that he does this precisely by virtue of his situation with the God of Israel. (2003, 194)
Jensen in Essentials of Christian Theology (2003)

Jensen points out that the emerging notion of association that comes from the word “with” points to the “inescapably observable fact” that the biblical narrative is framed by three divine characters in its drama (2003, 195): the God of Israel, Jesus his Son, and the life-giving Spirit of God.

Agreeing with Jenson (2003, 196), Jesus should not be viewed as a mere successive mode of God’s presence in time (modalism) or as the Father’s subordinate agent with the Spirit in time (subordinationism). Instead, Jesus maintains an eternally mutual and reciprocal relationship with the Father and the Spirit. For this reason, ancient Christians used an analogy inspired by the theater, that is to say, that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit although three in persona (mask) are one in Divine substance. Another model is found in Martin Buber’s I-You relationship model (McGrath 2017,179–80).

Understanding the Humanity of Jesus

What, then, goes into mapping this theological tension of the Son and the Trinity?

Mapping the nature of Jesus’ humanity—in balance with his divinity—requires great caution. The traditional doctrine of the incarnation (literally, “becoming bodily”) affirms both the full humanity of Jesus and his divinity. Any attempt to isolate what is organically interwoven in the person and work of Jesus runs a high risk of distortion.

Overcompensating to account for the humanity of Jesus has typically been met with the “stamp” of heresy. Three, in particular, are Ebionism, Arianism, and Docetism (McGrath 2017, 214–20).

The roots of Ebionism are Jewish. It framed Jesus through the lenses of a human prophet, as called and anointed by the Holy Spirit. As a low Christology, Jesus is only a “spiritually superior” human. This does not align with the picture of his eternal pre-existence as Creator.

Plotted on another point on the map is Arianism (named after Arius), which called into question the “fully divine” and “fully human” affirmation due to an irreconcilable application of the Greek notion of divine impassability and the doctrine of the incarnation. God cannot be both changeable (fully human) and transcendent (fully divine), therefore, the incarnation strikes at the perfect nature of the one God. Jesus must therefore be a “superior created being” with nothing divine to report. This failed to account for the actual testimony of the gospels where in fact this is possible.

Meanwhile, Docetism affirmed, with its hardline separation of God and the present evil world of matter (due to its gnostic foundation), the divine incarnation of John 1:14 was nothing more than “pretend.” The heresy’s name (or tendency) is derived from the Greek word dokéō (“to seem”) affirming Jesus only “seemed” to have a body in which he suffered and died, making the incarnation “into a fake” (Placher 2003, 183). Scripturally, the work of Christ is dependent on the fully human (Luke 24:38–39) and fully divine Jesus manifested in the death of the cross and resurrection from the dead (Rom 1:3–4).

Similarly, the opening line of 1 John affirms the humanity of the “Word of Life”: “what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands” (1:1).

Likewise, in the second century CE, Ignatius of Antioch (ca. 35–ca. 110) stressed his concern to the Christians of Trallia that they should guard against (“be deaf,” kōphóthēte 9.1) anything which undermines the humanity of Christ with the following words:

Jesus Christ, who was of the family of David, who was the son of Mary; who really was born, who both ate and drank; who really was persecuted under Pontius Pilate, who really was crucified and died while those in heaven and on earth and under the earth look on; who, moreover, really was raised from the dead when his Father raised him up, who—his Father, that is—in the same way will likewise also raise us up in Christ Jesus who believe in him, apart from whom we have no true life. (“To the Trallians” 9.1–2)
Ignatius of Antioch, “To the Trallians” 9.1-2

The example of Ignatius is interesting because it is early and strongly affirms Jesus’ human form, “who really” (hos alethōs) an adverb repeated four times to assert what is true, actual because it corresponds to what is really so (BDAG 44). For Ignatius, Jesus actually was born, ate and drank, persecuted, crucified and died, and raised from the dead. Ignatius saw denying the humanity of Christ as subversive to the soteriological (the saving, redeeming) and eschatological (end times, fulfilling) work of Christ.

What Does This Mean?

What then does it mean for the Christian that God became flesh to redeem us in the person of Jesus Christ? Two extremes must be cautioned against here. One extreme is to moralize the life of Jesus (1 Pet 2:21), and as such reduces Jesus to a mere good teacher. Another extreme is to make Jesus’ life and teaching into a disjointed symbolic presence of God (i.e., Paul Tillich).

The humanity of Jesus provides me with a great deal of assurance as a believer that God knows through Christ the human plight. Jesus has “assumed all” and can, therefore “heal all” of humanity (Placher 2003, 184). When the “name” Immanuel (“God is with us”) is given to Jesus (Matt 1:23) the associated promise is that “he will save his people from their sins (Matt 1:21). God’s presence in the human child to be born provides a personal locus that can be isolated to time, space, and history.

For all humans, it then becomes quite clear that God is joining the human continuum to reconcile not only “us” but also “the world to himself” in Christ (2 Cor 5:18–19). Paul’s application has massive personal repercussions,

“if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” (5:17)

The humanity of Jesus is not simply a modal expression of God, but God entering into time and space to save, forgive, reconcile, and renew humanity and creation.

It provides the seedbed to take the particular localized Jesus and affirm his enduring value for all humans for all time. As Ignatius wrote, God “will likewise also raise us up in Christ Jesus who believe in him, apart from whom we have no true life” (“To the Trallians” 9.2).

Truly, the humanity of the God-Man Jesus is relevant for the Christian’s personal walk before God because it is the seedbed for all our hopes, especially, hope for the resurrection (1 Cor 15:12–19).

Bibliography

(BDAG) Bauer, Walter, Frederick W. Danker, W. F. Ardnt, and F. W. Gingrich. 2000. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. 3rd edition. Chicago: University of Chicago.

Ignatius. 1999. “The Letters of Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch.” Pages 128–201 in The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations. 2d edition. Edited and revised by Michael W. Holmes. Grand Rapids: Baker Books.

Jenson, Robert W. 2003. “Does Jesus Make a Difference? The Person and Work of Jesus Christ” Pages 191–205 in Essentials of Christian Theology. Edited by William C. Placher. Louisville, Kent: Westminster John Knox.

McGrath, Alister E. 2017. Christian Theology: An Introduction. 6th edition. Maldon, Ma: Wiley Blackwell.

Placher, William C. 2003. “Does Jesus Make a Difference? The Person and Work of Jesus Christ” Pages 183–91 in Essentials of Christian Theology. Edited by William C. Placher. Louisville, Kent: Westminster John Knox.

The Gospels: Reading Them Like a Gorilla

On May 24, 2022May 29, 2022 By Jovan PayesIn Articles, Conversion, evangelism, Gospel Studies, Jesus Studies, John, Leviticus, Luke, Mark, Matthew, Personal Story, Urban Christianity

Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John are four stories about Jesus that offer four broad perspectives from which they tell specific stories with a “powerful realism” about his ministry, teaching, healings, rejection, crucifixion, and resurrection.[1] This much is very clear. Questions emerge about the genre, historicity, chronology, stages of oral transmission, and history of literary dependence (e.g., “did Matthew and Luke rely on Mark?”), but at the heart of what the gospels are is Jesus and the stories told about him.

I have been reading and studying the four gospels for about a quarter-century, first, as a young Christian, then in my on and off again academic pursuits, and as a local preacher. During this time I’ve arrived at some important conclusions about them:

The genre of “gospel” is historical narratives comparable to the Greco-Roman bios.
The gospels are a blend of theology and history.
This blend of theology and history does not undermine their historical reliability.
The gospels provide a holistic view of Jesus, we cannot pick and chose what is the “authentic” Jesus.

But there was a time I was unaware of Rudolf Bultmann’s (1884–1976) demythologizing existential approach to redefining the meaning of the supernatural elements from the Gospels, and other approaches birthed by liberalism and modernism to reading them. It was a time when I was oblivious of the historical/grammatical-critical approach to studying them with the tools of form criticism, oral-tradition criticism, literary criticism, and so on. I’ve benefited deeply from the types of questions they raise and the kinds of answers they seek to provide.

This essay is not about this process, however. Instead, I am sharing what I can recall from my experience of reading the Gospels as “a knucklehead from the streets” searching for God. I want to share this personal journey while I can still remember how reading the gospel lead me to find God in Jesus Christ and how Jesus’ life and teachings made me want to follow him.

My Background

Here are my “credentials” for the spring of 1996 when I was seventeen: A high school dropout, a three-year freshman, most days starting with cutting school, drinking, smoking weed, and roaming the parks or streets (in that order). In the columns for attendance and absences on my report cards, my poor mom thought they made an error because the numbers looked swapped.

Then there was my street life in a gang. Street fights and violence, jumping over backyard fences running from the police (and dogs), plotting to hurt “heads” from other gangs, all-nighters, drug use, sex, and on and on it went. I am not proud of it, but I ran with my homies and we were “tighter than a glove,” I had my “street-cred,” I earned my stripes, and many can vouch for that.[2] They called me, “Gorilla.”

I grew up in Roman Catholicism. I was christened as a baby at St. Charles on South Van Ness in the Mission District of San Francisco, CA. Although my family is from the Mission, my Abuela brokered a deal so I could attend an Irish Catholic parochial K-8 school in Noe Valley. I wish I could tell you anything I learned in religion class to help me read scripture but I can’t. I can say, the rituals really stuck. I was an altar boy. I know the “Our Father,” the “doxology,” the two “Hail Marys,” parts of the Catholic Apostle’s Creed, and I can genuflect with the best of them. I did my confirmation. I prayed my penance prayers after confession.

I do not however recall ever being taught how to read Scripture, that was the priest’s job. So when I started reading the Bible years after leaving the Roman Catholic Church following 8th grade and diving right into drug use that summer with acid, I had no strategies to work with except my basic education and common sense. I was seventeen years old, getting sober, and walking away from vice and violence. I cried out to God in prayer on the corner of 24th and Mission Streets: “I don’t know how to do this, but I’m going to look for you…. Can you meet me halfway?”

Things did not immediately change for me outside of me stepping away from the streets until one night I went out with my boys. While I was scrambling to get my outfit right, I looked under my bed to find my shoes: Air Griffey Max 1. Behind my shoes, under my bed, was a small Gideon New Testament I had no idea was sitting there amidst the dust and trash. I took the discovery as God prodding me, in effect saying, “I just did my part, now you do your part and start reading it.” I grabbed it. Looked at it with a smirk. Looked upwards and said, “Okay, God, I’ll start reading it.”

I started reading the Gospels and after a few months of reading the stories about Jesus, in December 1996, just after Christmas, I gave my life to Jesus and submitted to baptism in an outdoor hot tub (to learn more read: “Leaving a Street Gang for Jesus“). Up to this point, I had not entered a church, I had not participated in any evangelistic study material outside of some creepy Jack T. Chick (1924–2016) “Gospel” Tracts. I simply read the Gospels and they were sufficient to guide me to obey God.

So here are some things I recall from this several-month journey as a street gang knucklehead,[3] with an eighth-grade education, working through a period of “getting clean.”

Reading the Gospels at Face Value

Let me be clear, I have always been a believer even when I left God and did my thing. If I ever was going to return to religion it was either going to be Christianity (starting point) or Islam (due to some of my closest Egyptian, Palestinian, and Persian friendships at the time). If God exists, then the miraculous is possible. When I read Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, then, I believed the miracles contained in them were possible. I read them at face value.

Today, naturalism may be how many more approach a book like the Bible. For them, the door is closed to anything miraculous in the literal sense (i.e., the blind will never see, the cripple will never walk, demons are not exorcized, water is not turned to wine, the resurrection of a corpse does not happen). I did not approach the Gospels with this assumption. How could I, I called on God to find me!

Today, I recognize such an approach may be called a supernatural naivete (superstitious), but after studying worldview, the logical consequences of naturalism/materialism on ethics and morality, and dealing with the dismal outlook of living in an indifferent universe, keeping the door open to the possibility of the miraculous continues to make the most sense of the evidence in this world.[4]

Today, having worked through issues surrounding the critical study of the Scriptures, along with its anti-supernatural biases, its “mythology” and de-historicizing its narratives, it is clear that such a folklore Jesus would be a dead end. If the Jesus of the gospels does not exist then there are plenty of other historical fictional, or sci-fi, figures of virtue on their own “hero’s journey” I can enjoy instead. A fictional gospel reveals a powerless Jesus.

I believed God was working through Jesus in reality, and it led me to believe that his power could be applied to my own life in some healing way.

Jesus was Compassionate and Morally Firm

I had never read the gospels. I grew up on liturgy and tradition. Liturgy and tradition can be helpful as a tool for theological reinforcement, but it has significant limitations. For the most part, I just “knew”–as best I could know–Jesus loved me and died for me. But why, and why the cross? And is this what Christianity is all about, the story of an executed man? What about this has to do with me? And what would I learn about Jesus?

Again, I was, in the words of Ben Witherington, III, living a “Jesus haunted and biblically illiterate” life.[5] At the time, Jesus was the guy that died for me. I grew up reciting the “Stations of the Cross” every year in Mass. These 14 liturgical meditations commemorate the condemnation, death, and burial of Jesus (though I distinctly remember meditations of his resurrection).

So, I opened up that little New Testament with the small print to see where it would lead me.

I wasn’t sure what to expect. I was however truly surprised by the Jesus I was reading about. He drew me in. I was slightly expecting Jesus to be like the street preachers on my block. Those “bullhorn guys” yelling at the top of their lungs, telling us all that we are sinners, that we are all under the judgment of God, that regardless if you were eating donuts, McDonald’s, a burrito, going to the market, or selling weed, it didn’t matter because God hated us until we repented.

That is not at all what I found!

The Jesus of the gospels did not shy away from pointing to sin in people’s lives, but when he did so you knew he cared about you, you knew he had spent days with the sick to heal them, with the crippled making them walk, with the demon-oppressed liberating them of these evil spirits. He spent time with the kind of people the “really religious” types pushed aside, like the prostitutes and tax-collectors who wanted God.

In one instance, a woman from the city, known as a “sinner” (she likely had a bad reputation as a violator of the law of Moses), came to Jesus to show gratitude because he had forgiven her of her sins (Luke 7:47–48). The Pharisee who hosted Jesus in his home for dinner when this happened, reacted: “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner” (Luke 7:39). She was undesirable, not to be engaged. Jesus however acknowledged her morally troubled past, accepted her, and forgave her of her sins.

Like a protector walking among his people, Jesus offered those that would listen to him a better way of life.

Again, Jesus healed a man who could not walk and had been that way for thirty-eight years (John 5:1–9). Later He ran into him when the man was under scrutiny by some Jews because it happened on the Sabbath. “Afterward Jesus found him in the temple and said to him, ‘See, you are well! Sin no more, that nothing worse may happen to you’ ” (John 5:14 ESV). Jesus heals the man, helps the man, forgives the man (implied), but is morally firm: sin no more.

I really needed and wanted a guide out of all the darkness and evil I was in. I knew I had dug a deeply immoral hole. I said to myself, “Jesus has gotta know my situation… and he knows what it’s going to take to get out of it.”

Meeting Jesus in the Gospels was a real turning point for me. I was moved. Reading that Jesus was the type of person that got to know you, your life, your darkness, and was not afraid to touch it as he embraced you, and then led you out of the sin in your life so you can live a liberated life before God. He was compassionate and morally firm.

Jesus’ Inspiring Inner Strength

The 1990s rap scene was flooded with “gangsta rap.” It was not the only form of rap, but like the “consciousness” of hip hop, this movement provided a peek into the mind and mental of street life. It spoke to what many of us were living through to different degrees. In 1995, the Westcoast hip-hop artist Coolio released the massively successful commercial single, “Gangsta’s Paradise” the theme song for the film, Dangerous Minds (Buena Vista Pictures). I recall me and my homies could not get enough of it. In fact, I called the hip hop station 106.1 KMEL on the request line just to hear it again. It was “the jam.”

It was more than just music, it was a mirror of our experiences. I say that because Coolio says what we all understood about respect in the street. Respect and honor were set on a hairpin trigger. When Coolio dropped this line, it was “gospel”:

But I ain’t never crossed a man that didn’t deserve it
Me be treated like a punk, you know that’s unheard of
You better watch how you talkin’ and where you walkin’
Or you and your homies might be lined in chalk
Coolio, “Gangsta’s Paradise”

This was not mere poetry this was street truth. Outside of joking around, you don’t cross your boys or disrespect people. Did it happen? Sure, but there were consequences.

So when I read the gospels, I brought this attitude with me. Call it machismo, call it pride, call it hubris. Somebody hurts your kin, the next time you see that person you confront them, punk them (embarrass them), and flex your muscle.

I was impressed with Jesus. When he interacted with the religious leaders of his day–the Pharisees, scribes, and Sadducees–who constantly poked at his school, his teaching, his methods, and his compassion, I stood amazed at how he handled these tests with an inner strength of truth and grace.

I definitely rallied behind him when Jesus flipped over the moneychangers’ tables at the temple, they had turned the place into a “den of robbers.” That language made sense to me. But Jesus was mild compared to what power he clearly had.

And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who sold access to God, saying to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a den of robbers.” (Luke 19:45–46)

He made a statement. He didn’t end them. That’s the difference.

But for every other challenge, every criticism, every rejection, every attempt on his life, every time Jesus was made out to be crazy, a fraud, a violator of the Scripture, or liable as an ally of Satan, Jesus responded with words to clarify, words to unite, words bluntly stating the obvious, and words that demonstrate the faulty logic, scriptural inconsistency, or the like.

Basically, Jesus was full of zeal but kept his cool nonetheless (John 2:17).

Consider the fact that the gospels report that Jesus could walk on water, make water into wine, give people their sight back, restore the skin of leprosy, and revive the dead.

A man with that kind of power could be tempted to abuse it, but as the temptation in the desert points out, Jesus’ power did not outpace his character (Matt 4:1–11; Mark 1:12–13; Luke 4:1–12). When Jesus was rejected by the Samaritans, he rebuked his disciples for suggesting he retaliate with fire from the sky.

And when his disciples James and John saw it, they said, “Lord, do you want us to tell fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” But he turned and rebuked them. And they went on to another village. (Luke 9:54–56)

Jesus showed strength in order to protect people, in order to speak truth to error, and authenticity to hypocrisy. I was captivated by his ability to hold it together when he was betrayed by Judas, when he was lied about in his Jewish “trial” before Caiaphas, when he was publically humiliated by the Romans, publically rejected by the Jewish mob with their frenzied chant, “crucify him, crucify him.” Jesus clearly stated he had the power and authority to be delivered by an overwhelming show of heavenly force (John 18:1–19:16a), but he did not.

I stood in awe at Jesus’ character. Jesus was dismissed by those who knew the Scriptures until the only way they thought they could silence him was to kill him. Here’s the part that really put this strength in context: Jesus predicted his betrayal, his rejection, and his death. John foreshadowed this in his prologue: “He [Jesus] came to his own, and his own people did not receive him” (1:12). He walked right into the fire.

I never heard of anyone who lived like that. Jesus was street-level “hard” (tough) in a way I had never seen. Jesus’ inner strength told me I could trust him. That’s the point.

In describing Abraham Lincoln, Robert G. Ingersol (1833–1899), was recorded in Wisconsin State Journal (16 January 1883) saying,

If you want to find out what a man is to the bottom, give him power. Any man can stand adversity — only a great man can stand prosperity. It is the glory of Abraham Lincoln that he never abused power only on the side of mercy. [Applause]. He was a perfectly honest man. When he had power, he used it in mercy.[6]
Robert Ingersol, Wisconsin State Journal (1883)

Whether that was always true of Abraham Lincoln, I’ll never know. But I trusted what I saw in Jesus’ use of power and in the realism of the stories of the gospels. I needed to trust him. I grew to trust him. I trust him still. And in the quarter-century of serving him, he has done no wrong.

Spending Time with Nobodies

In the 1991 urban drama, Boyz n the Hood (Columbia Pictures), director and writer John Singleton (1968–2019) presented a raw depiction of urban violence, racism, and gang culture as the backdrop for the coming of age stories of a group of childhood friends, notably two brothers (“Doughboy” and Ricky) and their close friend Tre. The impact of drugs and violence on the black community of South Central Los Angeles is seen as we follow these friends who grow up fast to survive–only to become victims of their own turbulent world.

After a confrontation between Ricky–a high school football star on track to receive a college scholarship– and a local gangster, the matter escalates into Ricky being gunned down in an alley while coming home from the liquor store. Doughboy and his own crew retaliate that night by killing the gunmen and his posse for killing his brother. In the next scene, the next morning, Doughboy comes out of his home, sells some crack as he crosses the street, and sits with his friend Tre.

In one of the most memorable moments in the film Doughboy says:

Turned on the TV this morning. Had this s— on about how we’re living in a violent world. Showed all these foreign places. How foreigners live and all. I started thinking, man. Either they don’t know… don’t show… or don’t care about what’s going on in the ‘hood. They had all this foreign s—. They didn’t have s— on my brother, man.
“Doughboy” in Boyz n the Hood

Although I was twelve when the movie came out, the movie has the proven realism of its era. What Singleton is voicing through Doughboy is that even though there is violence in the street of our communities, nobody cares about it. It is happening over there, not in our backyard. We put a spotlight on global violence but not in our own communities. We know it happens and the police are doing “something” about it. But it is not worth talking about or getting involved with.

Here’s my point: street life is a very different world. No matter what your starting point is, once you commit to it you live a life on the fringe. The police are not your friends. You can easily lose trust with your own people. You’re the boogeyman parents warn their kids about, “come home soon so nothing happens to you.” You are the reason they need to be careful.

For example, one day I was detained with a group of “us” by the San Francisco Police Department on 24th Street. Officer Callejas who put the twist on me was the father of a childhood friend. A bunch of us were thrown into a “patty wagon,” taken to the Mission station on Valencia Street. You really get a sense of how you are thought of in situations like this. Any mistreatment was seemingly justifiable because we were thugs who likely assaulted a little boy for his shoes. No one really cares when you are a thug. I get why, but it is still the truth.[7] We were probably guilty of something and the pain was just part of the business of the street: we felt like nobodies cause we were treated like nobodies.

Liberal New Testament scholar John Dominic Crossan (1934–) once described the “kingdom of God” Jesus focuses on as “a kingdom of nuisances and nobodies.”[8] That description really gets the point across. Crossan points to the fact Jesus spends a lot of time with the kinds of people the “clean” religious people would not associate with. The tax-collectors, the prostitutes, the sinners, the Gentile-tainted, the Samaritan, the lepers, the poor, etc., are all the kinds of people Jesus spend time with at the expense of criticism. This really spoke to me.

German theologian, Helmut Thielicke (1908–1986), really puts into words what I saw in Jesus:

[A]n ineffable love radiated from him, a love that quite obviously attracted from their usual haunts the very people whom nobody else cared for: people with loathsome, repulsive diseases, sinners who cowered before the contempt of society, the dejected and dismayed who normally concealed their misery from the eyes of others.[9]
Helmut Thielicke, The Waiting Father (1959)

Reading how Jesus ate with sinners just made me think that there was hope that he would share a seat with me at the dinner table. That he would come to my house and eat with me and my friends. Jesus put to those that criticized him for eating with sinners. He said,

Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance. (Luke 5:31–32)

Would Jesus visit with me so he could heal me? I believed he would. He did. He continues to do so.

I am always amazed at the power of grace that allows us to be “other than we are.” God’s grace and forgiveness have empowered me to live a different life. No story Jesus told tells it better than the parable of the two sons:

“What do you think? A man had two sons. And he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ And he answered, ‘I will not,’ but afterward he changed his mind and went. And he went to the other son and said the same. And he answered, ‘I go, sir,’ but did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?” They said, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Truly, I say to you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes go into the kingdom of God before you. For John came to you in the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him. And even when you saw it, you did not afterward change your minds and believe him. (Matt 21:28–32)

Fringe people have an opportunity to be at the heart of what Jesus does. I wanted that.

Jesus Taught about Loving People

Sometimes I would leave the Mission and go with some of my fellas to the Tenderloin District of San Francisco at night. We had a friend with a car and we had a friend with a shop out there. The “TL” is a neighborhood district right in the heart of downtown. It’s the part of the city no one wants to get lost in, but so many people do. Legend has it that the name goes back to the largest bribes and police corruption, big cuts. In reality, it’s the home of “outcasts and outlaws, but it has also served as a welcoming home to the downtrodden and out of luck.”[10] It has been that way for a long time.

You always had to be on your guard in the streets but it felt that way even more so in the TL. I got into plenty of fights over misunderstandings. Sometimes you had to “knuckle up” to prove your point. Every now and then, something would happen that would disarm you. One time a parade of prostitutes hurried single-file by me into the back of the pizzeria I was eating at because the police were cracking down outside. That stuff makes you want to lose your appetite. Sadly, I eventually saw a few girls I went to high school with, out there in the TL “walking” the streets.

One situation really struck me. One night I watched a young girl call home to tell her folks that she was not coming back. A pimp had flipped her, she was gonna become of his girls. I can see her standing in a MUNI bust stop phone booth, surrounded by a bunch of guys as she said the following words:

Momma, don’t worry, I’m fine and I’m gonna make a lot of money…. No, tell dad I’m gonna be fine… he’s gonna take care of me, I’m going to be just fine… No, I’m not telling you where I am… he’s gonna take care of me…
Jane Doe calling home

“No, girl,” I said to myself, “No, he’s not.” You learn to get cold to things like this. I didn’t want to get played but if someone else did, that was on them. This moment, though, would eventually make me really question what it is I was becoming. One thing was certain, I was losing my humanity piece by piece I just did not know it yet.

So when I asked God to find me, and I started reading the Gospels, I learned that Jesus was all about loving his neighbor. What surprised me the most, and continues to be the challenge, is how Jesus applies the “love your neighbor” ethic. In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus said:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect." (Matt 5:43–48)

When Jesus applies Leviticus 19:18 (“you shall love your neighbor as yourself”) to life, he said my neighbor was not just people I know but even people I hate, and people that hate me. That was a bitter pill to swallow. Looking back, even now, I have learned that this love even protects the vulnerable people in society (the poor, the blind, the deaf; cf. Lev 19:13–14). In a world where hate and anger were the fuel that drove my choices, I thought about how different my choices were going to have to be. I realized that I could not follow Jesus and stay in the gang, that I could not be in a “me vs. them” world. Most of the time I did not even know who the people I hated were.

I was starting to see that the world could be different. That I could be different. God was good to me despite all the things I had done. He gave me the sun, the rain, the wind and rain, different escapes from certain death, and my close trusted cholos over Frisco. I did not know it then, but I had just opened my heart to a very different way of living. Of all the things that changed my life nothing so drastically changed it as learning to love my enemies, people who hurt me, people I had come to hate, and learning to have grief and shame for the joy I got out of hurting people.

Here’s another significant point, Jesus was not teaching some kind of fluffy love. It is a rugged love. It is a love that is independent of what others do. We wait for people to love us and never hurt us, in order for us to love them back. That’s not the kind of love Jesus talks about. We treat people with love even when it might cause hatred, persecution, or attempts on your life. Jesus went through all of that when he lived out God’s love by dying on the cross for all humanity.

That type of love motivated me to learn to forgive those who hurt me, molested me, abandoned me, fought me, or betrayed me; positively, I learned to feed hungry people, give money to needy people, to care for those that struggle, treat people with kindness and patience. Most importantly, I learned to forgive and love myself. Remember, Jesus said the second great commandment is to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Matt 22:39)–as yourself, as myself. It was a new day in my life when I received Jesus’ words to love my neighbor.

Jesus inspired me to look at loving others in such a way that challenged what it means to love, who are the others and even to love myself.

Ready for the Next Step

Reading the Gospels lead me to take the next step to follow Jesus. While I no longer remember how each Gospel spoke to me, I remember the example of Jesus already making a big impression on me. I also began to see how it affected other people when I quoted Jesus or imitated Jesus, often without even telling them I was. A homeless lady on the BART even asked me, “are you a Christian?”[11] I didn’t even know what that meant. She had to tell me: someone who follows Jesus. I was that “unchurched.”

Still, I was still wrestling with drinking, smoking cigarettes and weed, and I was building my fortitude against sleeping with anyone. Over the months of reading the Gospels, I desired but I didn’t exactly know what the next step was. After all, I had not entered a church during this time. There was no preacher or evangelistic crusade that was guiding my journey. It was quite literally, me and the Gospels, and me and my demons.

I remember talking to Mormon missionaries at this time and they said, “Cry out to God for an audible answer that the Book of Mormon was true, and you will hear him.” I spent many nights crying out to God in tears, scared that I was so close but so far. Never heard a voice. I remember receiving a bunch of creepy Chick tracts that told me to give my heart to the Lordship of Jesus or I would be roasted by Satan in Hell. I wandered into books and advice from outsiders.

My big brother, however, brought me back to the Gospels. “Have you read the Gospels?,” he asked. “Yes,” I responded. “What does Jesus tell his disciples when he sends them out at the end of Matthew?” I opened the text and it was right there:

Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. And when they saw him they worshiped him, but some doubted. And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28: 16–20)

That told me everything I needed to know and do next. I knew I wanted to be a disciple, this text told me how. I knew I wanted to submit to the Lordship of Jesus, this text told me how. I knew I wanted to keep having a relationship with Jesus even though he was not “here” anymore, this text showed me he was still with us. And I wanted to still study under Jesus, and he showed me that it was in the teaching of the disciples. So, I knew I would have to change my life and I made that commitment in a personal hot tub a few days after Christmas in December 1996. The “Gorilla” was “gone” and Jovan was reborn.

Endnotes

See Leland Ryken, How to Read the Bible as Literature (Grand Rapids, MI: Academic Books, 1984), 132. I highly recommend Craig Blomberg, The Historical Reliability of the Gospels, 2nd ed. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2007).
As you may see in this essay, rap lyrics speak for me at times and so it is here. In Eazy-E’s comeback response album, It’s On (~~Dr. Dre~~) 187um Killa (Woodland Hills, CA: Ruthless, 1993), to Dr. Dre’s The Chronic album (Beverly Hills, CA: Death Row Records, 1991), the song “Real Muthaphukkin G’s” features Dresta who says, “I did dirt, put in work, and many n—- can vouch that; So since I got stripes, I got the right to rap about [gangsta life].” I wasn’t the worst thug out there, and I can only speak for myself, but I did my thing.
I use the “knucklehead” phrase because that’s what Mr. Cee from the RBL Posse said in his rap rhyme: “I’m just a knucklehead from the streets, All I want is a mic and some of that funky a– beat” (“A Part of Survival,” A Lesson to be Learned [Oakland, CA: In a Minute Records, 1992]).
One should read the opening chapter of William Lane Craig’s The Son Rises: The Historical Evidence for the Resurrection of Jesus (1981; repr., Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2000). Consistently, atheist Richard Dawkins wrote, “…if the universe were just electrons and selfish genes, meaningless tragedies like the crashing of this bus are exactly what we should expect, along with equally meaningless good fortune. Such a universe would be neither evil nor good in intention. It would manifest no intentions of any kind. In a universe of blind physical forces and genetic replication, some people are going to get hurt, other people are going to get lucky, and you won’t find any rhyme or reason in it, nor any justice. The universe we observe has precisely the properties we should expect if there is, at bottom, no design, no purpose, no evil and no good, nothing but blind, pitiless indifference… DNA neither knows nor cares. DNA just is. And we dance to its music” (River Out of Eden: A Darwinian View of Life [New York: Basic Books, 1995], 132–33; bold added).
The actual quote is, “In America we live in a Jesus-haunted culture that is biblically illiterate. Jesus is a household name, and yet only a distinct minority of Americans have studied an English translation of the original documents that tell us about Jesus, much less read them in the original Greek. In this sort of environment, almost any wild theory about Jesus or his earliest followers can pass for knowledge with some audiences, because so few people actually know the primary sources, the relevant texts, or the historical context with which we should be concerned” (What Have They Done With Jesus? Beyond Strange Theories and Bad History–Why We Can Trust the Bible [New York: HarperSanFrancisco, 2006]).
Dan MacGuill, “Did Lincoln Say, “If You want to Test a Man’s Character, Give Him Power?” Snopes.com. Accessed: 18 May 2022.
I can only think of one organization that was brash enough to try to disrupt our comfort with street life, and that was RAP. Unfortunately, there were not a lot of encounters.
John Dominic Crossan, Jesus: A Revolutionary Biography (New York: HarperCollins, 1994), 61–84. While I am critical of many of Crossan’s proposals about the historical Jesus and his trance and mythic theory of the resurrection appearances of Jesus, he rings true here. See my, “Did Paul Hallucinate the Resurrection?“
Helmut Thielicke, The Waiting Father: Sermons on the Parables of Jesus, trans. John W. Doberstein (New York: Harper, 1959), 159.
Tshego Letsoalo, “The History of San Francisco’s Tenderloin Neighborhood.”
BART stands for the Bay Area Rapid Transit system. It was a subway/train system that connects various cities in the San Francisco/Oakland/East Bay/North Bay areas.

Did Paul Hallucinate the Resurrection?

On August 5, 2021October 15, 2023 By Jovan PayesIn 1 Corinthians, 2021, Biblical Criticism, Christian Apologetics, Early Christianity, Graduate Work, Jesus Studies, Paul's Letters, Research Papers, Resurrection, Theology1 Comment

[Note: This paper has been published. Go to the end of the article to download the published version.]

The historical bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead is the foundation of orthodox Christianity. The apostle Paul asserts, “if Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain” (1 Cor 15:14).[1] One argument skeptics, like former Catholic Priest and Jesus Seminar scholar John Dominic Crossan, use to counter the force of the historical claim of a bodily resurrection of Jesus is to say that the early Christians experienced hallucinations.

I intend to demonstrate the early Christian claim of Jesus appearing bodily after his resurrection, as reflected in Paul, is the best explanation for the resurrection appearances of the New Testament over Crossan’s hallucination theory.

I first critique the hallucination theory of Crossan for contradicting the bodily resurrection language of the New Testament. Second, I demonstrate how Crossan’s trance mechanism for a hallucination imposes an anachronistic understanding on Paul’s words. Finally, I dispute Crossan’s denial of the falsifiable of the bodily resurrection of Jesus.

Early Christians Believed in a Bodily Resurrection

The language of the miracle claim asserts that Jesus resurrected and appeared bodily to his disciples (John 20:27; Luke 24:39). However, a secular worldview primed by naturalism demands an alternative explanation of “what really happened” to Jesus other than a bodily resurrection.[2] The horns of the dilemma were posed by David F. Strauss (1808–1874), “either Jesus was not really dead, or he did not really rise again.”[3] However, all the details of passion-week Friday, such as, scourging, dehydration, crucifixion, etc., make any interpretation Jesus did not die to be “at odds with modern medical knowledge.”[4] The category of hallucination, as an explanation theory, is a popular attempt to claim the disciples hallucinated the bodily appearances of Jesus, and mass hysteria then spread their claim. As Dale C. Allison, Jr., frames it,

it was not the empty tomb that begot the hallucinations but hallucinations that begot the empty tomb.[5]
Dale C. Allison, Jr., Resurrecting Jesus (T&T Clark, 2005)

The charge is ancient. In the third-century AD, Origen of Alexandria (d. 254) combatted Celsus’ second-century claim that the disciples suffered a “delusion.”[6]

Another pushback against the orthodox view of a bodily resurrection is that it is just a fictional myth that developed over time as a result of a personal hallucination of Paul. To establish this claim, liberal Bible critic Crossan introduces the writings of two early non-Christian historians (Josephus and Tacitus) which he believes limit “what happened both before and after Jesus’s execution.” [7] Crossan argues their religious profiles of the Christian movement lack mention of the resurrection. Additionally, the Gospel of Thomas speaks of the “living Jesus” and the Epistle of Barnabas is void of resurrection talk. Crossan believes this evidence affirms that early Christian faith did not need to believe in a post-mortem appearance of Jesus. He further claims that Paul uses his experience of Jesus appearing to him (1 Cor 15:8) to give him the gravitas to be the equal of all the apostles in a political powerplay.[8]

Crossan’s novel hallucination theory also requires that the present passive indicative verb ōphthē, translated “appeared” in most translations, actually means “revealed.” This would be a culturally conditioned “trance” where Paul experienced an “altered state of consciousness” and used this personal experience to stabilize the infighting in the Corinthian church.[9] Crossan’s theory requires the church to have completely misread Paul’s testimony by taking his personal experience for apostolic orthodoxy. Crossan’s theory offers a “growth-politics” twist to the category of the hallucination theory.

The words of Paul in 1 Corinthians 15:3–11, however, do not support Crossan’s theory. In fact, this passage is a test-case of the united shape of the earliest Christian tradition concerning the resurrection appearances of Jesus.[10] The minimal facts theory of apologist Gary R. Habermas provides a firm critical foundation to respond to Crossan. The minimal facts theory is a critical approach that uses “the minimal, best-established facts surrounding the appearances” of Jesus that even Bible critics grant “to determine what really happened after Jesus’ death.”[11] Habermas has established four historical facts.

First, there is very little controversy that Paul wrote 1 Corinthians, as even Crossan dates the letter to AD 53–54.[12] Second, Paul’s articulation of the gospel predates him, “I delivered to you… what I also received” (1 Cor 15:3). Here Paul affirms the normative nature of what he is preaching. Third, Paul received this “tradition” anywhere between AD 32–38, less than a decade after the crucifixion.[13] Fourth, this reception of the creed occurred during Paul’s Jerusalem information gathering “visit” (cf. historéō) with Peter and James (Gal 1:18–20) and anchors his tradition to the early Jerusalem church.[14]

Bible critical scholar, A. M. Hunter (1906–1991), argues that Paul claims in this passage “a very early Christian summary” of what the united apostolic voice affirms about the gospel and Jesus resurrection appearances (15:11);[15] namely, “that Christ died for our sins… that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day… and that he appeared” (15:3–5). The bodily death and resurrection appearances of Jesus legitimizes the existence of the Christian faith, for “in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep” (15:20; cf. 15:6, 14). There is no powerplay. Paul is in fact arguing from within the earliest Christian tradition and meaning of resurrection appearance. This is a substantial point since Crossan’s theory offers a reinterpretation of the early Christian tradition which cannot be sustained internally.

Ultimately, a naturalistic argument forces Crossan’s hand to redefine what is a resurrection and how one experiences it. Resurrection was not, according to N. T. Wright, a generic term for “life after death” but instead “the second stage in a two-stage process of what happens after death: the first stage being nonbodily and the second being a renewed bodily existence… Paul really did believe in the bodily resurrection” (cf. 1 Cor 9:1).[16] It is precisely this firm belief in the bodily resurrection that invalidates Crosson’s theory for Paul, and is in conformity with other the New Testament descriptions of the bodily resurrection appearances of Jesus.[17]

Beyond the evidence of Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 15:3–11 of multiple eyewitnesses there are the public resurrection expectations and appearances in the Gospels; moreover, there are the resurrection creedal statements in the sermons of Acts.[18] It points to a clear unified belief among the earliest Christians that Jesus rose bodily from the dead and appeared in a renewed bodily existence. Bodily existence is the expected concept non-believers were to understand as the Christian view of the resurrection, as Judean Procurator Festus explains to Herod Agrippa II, “a certain Jesus, who was dead, but whom Paul asserted to be alive” (Acts 25:19; Acts 17:32). The New Testament evidence affirms, then, the early Christian claim that Jesus was a live again.

No Mechanism for Hallucination

As we shall argue, there are no cause for Paul to need a hallucination. Such a theory redefines the unified Christian claim of the bodily resurrection of Jesus. Crossan, keenly aware that Paul provides the earliest creedal statement, posits that Paul is the key for all the New Testament internal evidence. For Crossan what really happened is Paul was desperate to have a trance experience of the resurrection. He theorizes the Easter tradition developed over the years into its current boundaries of the canonical New Testament. Crossan offers “apparition–which involves trance” as the alternative dissociated state in which he believes Paul experienced resurrection.[19]

Based on the work by Erika Bourguignon on “dissociational” states, Crossan affirms trance to be “a human universal” that may be a culturally trained and controlled experience by one’s social and religious expectations.[20] Crossan’s reading of Paul’s words is an eisegetical fallacy importing a modern socio-religious model of an “altered state of consciousness” into Paul’s experiences to establish his political equality with the other apostles.[21] Again Crossan claims, “Paul needs… to equate his own experience” with the apostles to establish “its validity and legitimacy but not necessarily its mode or manner.”[22] Crossan’s methodology is problematic on this point.

However, there are three major problems with Crossan’s hallucination theory. First, Crossan imports an anachronistic definition into the use ōphthē in Paul’s words. It should be noted with significance that in the Greek Old Testament ōphthē is used in appearances of God (i.e., theophanies) to Abraham, and clearly to Abraham in bodily form where he ate with the Lord (Gen 18:1).[23] Paul was quite familiar with Genesis as he makes substantial arguments about justification by faith with the stories of Abraham in Galatians and Romans. To posit a modern theory while ignoring this Old Testament tradition of the verb, “he appeared,” ignores the textual evidence. Furthermore, it calls into question the validity of Crossan’s exegetical methodology.

Second, he exchanges his own meaning for Paul’s intended meaning of the verb ōphthē.[24] Crossan’s claim puts the power of the trance in Paul’s hands, but Paul’s verbal word choice indicates the appearance was out of his hands. Greek scholar, Daniel B. Wallace, reminds in grammatical instances like this, “volition rests wholly with the subject [Jesus], while the dative noun is merely recipient [Paul].”[25] It is Jesus who “appeared.” Paul did not conjure a “revelation” of Jesus.

Third, Crossan’s portrayal of Paul as desperate for apostolic power does not agree with Paul’s own success in Judaism prior to his conversion and call. He writes,

I was advancing in Judaism beyond many of my own age among my people, so extremely jealous was I for the traditions of my fathers. (Gal 1:13b–14)

Paul had the pedigree of a rising Jewish leader (Phil 3:4–8). There is no explainable mechanism which accounts for exchanging this advancement in Judaism for the trials of following Christ outside of an actual appearance of the resurrected Jesus which he did not initiate in a trance. Paul joins the pre-existing united voice of the apostolic witnesses, other earlier skeptical witnesses (non-believing siblings of Jesus), and the large groups seeing Jesus post-burial. Crossan’s theory do not adequately take these elements into account. Furthermore, Habermas’s minimal facts theory renders his mechanism historically implausible since its critical timetable places Paul as recipient, not creator, of the bodily resurrection confession.

Paul’s Claim was Falsifiable

This conclusion then leads to question of falsifiability. The early Christians claimed a dead man lived again. Writing about twenty years after the resurrection Paul asserts there were many eyewitnesses who could verify or falsify his claim that Jesus rose bodily. Paul wrote, “I delivered to you…what I also received” (1 Cor 15:2) and proceeds to outline six lines of eyewitness testimony evidence: Cephas, the twelve, over five hundred, James, all the apostles, and Paul. The most audacious claim is that Jesus appeared “to more than five hundred brothers at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have fallen asleep” (1 Cor 15:6). Paul’s submission invites investigation into the genuineness of the resurrection of Jesus and is essential to Paul’s argument for the validity of the gospel. Paul’s claim to have “seen the Lord” is falsifiable (1 Cor 9:1). Even Crossan understands the surface argument of this passage, and observes, “no Jesus resurrection, no general resurrection; or, no general resurrection, no Jesus resurrection.”[26] He does not however believe it.

Crossan believes that it would be impossible to falsify the traditional empty tomb and resurrection stories. When asked whether “the empty tomb” was historical, Crossan emphatically responds, “No.” Crossan expands,

“I doubt there was any tomb for Jesus in the first place. I don’t think any of Jesus’ followers even knew where he was buried–if he was buried at all.”[27]
John Dominic Crossan in Who is Jesus? Answers to Your Question About the Historical Jesus (Westminster John Knox, 1996)

From Roman sources Crossan argues the Roman expectation for the crucified was the denial of both body and burial.[28] To the point, Crossan says, the “final penalty was to lie unburied as food for carrion birds and beasts [i.e., animals that eat decaying flesh].”[29] Crucifixion meant, then, “death-without-burial” and “body-as-carrion”; consequently, there was little likelihood of Jesus’ body making it off the cross let alone into the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea (Mark 15:42; Matt 27:1–61).[30] It would likely take “bribery, mercy, or indifference” to get the Romans to release the body over to a Jew seeking to avoid violating Jewish protocols of burying the hung (Deut 21:22–23).

Such a “hope” would be the exception, for only one contemporary crucified body remains have been found where thousands have been so executed; as such, it “is not history.”[31] This clearly undermines the Gospel tradition of the empty tomb where Jesus had been buried.

Crossan’s historical reconstruction of customary expectations and practices is a strong counterargument against falsification by the presentation of the cadaver of Jesus. If there is no body which survives the cross, there is no body to be buried, and therefore the Christian claim cannot be falsified. However, Crossan cannot historically rule out that Jesus was buried as Mark affirms. He can only suggest burial would be highly unlikely. Crossan’s alternative depends on advancing a legendary basis for the burial of Jesus. Yet, William Lane Craig responds this “would ignore the specific evidence” in Jesus’ case.[32] As established by the “minimal facts” critical theory, the creedal statement in 1 Corinthians 15:3–5 is very early. Furthermore, this four-line creedal formula affirms crucifixion, burial, resurrection, and then appearance.

The burial of Jesus was essential to the creed and Mark’s reference to it is substantial corroboration. First, the “assured results” of critical scholarship considers Mark the earliest gospel as it is the most “bare bones” narrative of Jesus.[33] Second, the Passion week narrative includes Jesus’ rejection and crucifixion. Third, Mark introduces Jesus’ burial in Joseph of Arimathea’s tomb from which he resurrects. Mark retains the burial tradition.[34] Crossan’s methodology is prejudicial because it rules out, beforehand (a priori), the established testimony of the earliest claim of the Christians: Christ was buried, was raised, and he appeared.

Conclusion

This paper affirms the bodily resurrection of Jesus over the challenge raised by the hallucination theory developed by Crossan. The language of the New Testament asserts that Jesus resurrected and appeared bodily to his disciples, to unbelievers, and to many others. Crossan claimed that the resurrection from the dead was not a main element of the Christian faith. However, a critical examination of the words of Paul in 1 Corinthians 15:3–11 verifies that the primary and earlier Christian creedal tradition which teaches that Jesus arose bodily and appeared. There is no other normative belief in the New Testament than Jesus resurrected from the dead.

Second, Crossan’s trance mechanism for a hallucination imposes an anachronistic understanding on Paul’s words. The alternative theory offered by Crossan that Paul had a dissociative hallucination-trance experience to gain religious political power is based on seriously flawed exegetical methodology. There is ultimately no proper mechanism for Paul’s conversion to Christianity and his claim of seeing the resurrected Jesus, when he was living a successful Jewish life as a persecutor of the church. Paul’s claim that he saw the Lord resurrected must be taken seriously.

Finally, I asserted the early Christian claim of a bodily resurrection would have been falsifiable by the cadaver of Jesus. Crossan’s claim that Jesus’ body would likely never have survived nor made it to a burial actually is self-defeating because he cannot rule out known exceptions. In Jesus’ case, there were elements to his story that made it possible for Jesus to be taken off the cross and buried in the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea. This is in keeping with the earliest Christian claim regarding his burial.

Endnotes

Unless otherwise noted, all Scripture quotations are from the English Standard Version of The Holy Bible (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016).
Gary R. Habermas explains that a naturalist theory for the resurrection draws “from a host of philosophical backgrounds, the basic idea is to suggest an alternative explanation in place of divine causation… ‘Jesus didn’t rise from the dead. What really happened is (fill in the blank).’” Habermas, “The Late Twentieth-Century Resurgence of Naturalistic Responses to Jesus’ Resurrection,” Trinity Journal 22 (2001): 180.
David F. Strauss, The Life of Jesus Critically Examined, 4th edition, translated by George Eliot (London: Sonnenschein, 1902), 736. The longer form: “a dead man has returned to life, is composed of two such contradictory elements, that whenever it is attempted to maintain the one, the other threatens to disappear. If he has really returned to life, it is natural to conclude that he was not wholly dead; if he was really dead, it is difficult to believe that he has really become living” (735–36).
William Edwards, Wesley J. Gabel, and Floyd E. Hosmer, “On the Physical Death of Jesus Christ,” Journal of the American Medical Association 255.11 (1986): 1436.
Dale C. Allison, Jr., Resurrecting Jesus: The Earliest Christian Tradition and Its Interpreters (New York: T&T Clark, 2005), 204. Allison offers seven categories and sub-categories of resurrection appearance hypotheses each with different psychological catalysts (199–213).
Origen Contra Celsum 2.60: “But Celsus, unwilling to admit any such view, will have it that some dreamed a waking dream, and, under the influence of a perverted imagination, formed to themselves such an image as they desired. Now it is not irrational to believe that a dream may take place while one is asleep; but to suppose a waking vision in the case of those who are not altogether out of their senses, and under the influence of delirium or hypochondria, is incredible. And Celsus, seeing this, called the woman half-mad,— a statement which is not made by the history recording the fact, but from which he took occasion to charge the occurrences with being untrue.”
Josephus Antiquities 18.63; Tacitus Annals 15.44. cf. Crossan, Jesus: A Revolutionary Biography (New York: HarperCollins, 1994), 161–62. Italics added.
Crossan, Jesus, 166.
Ibid., 167; 87–88.
The following four arguments presume the work of Gary R. Habermas, “The Resurrection Appearances of Jesus,” In Defense of Miracles, ed. R. Douglas Geivett and Gary R. Habermas (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1997), 264.
Habermas, “Resurrection Appearances,” 262.
Possibly later, like 64. Stephen Neill and Tom Wright, The Interpretation of the New Testament: 1861–1986, 2nd edition (New York: Oxford University, 1988), 308; Crossan, Jesus, 163.
C. H. Dodd argues that Paul’s first visit to Jerusalem was “not more than seven years after the Crucifixion,” The Apostolic Preaching and Its Developments (reprint, New York: Harper & Brothers, n.d.), 16.
William R. Farmer, “Peter and Paul and the Tradition Concerning ‘The Lord Supper’ in 1 Cor 11:23–26,” Criswell Theological Review 2.1 (1987): 122–28; Habermas, “Resurrection Appearances,” 265–67.
A. M. Hunter, Jesus: Lord and Saviour (reprint, Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1978), 99. John Dominic Crossan argues that Paul went to great pains to validate his own apostleship, yet, it was not the voice but a competing voice among many regarding the importance of the resurrection, Jesus, 159–92.
N. T. Wright and John Dominic Crossan, “The Resurrection: Historical Event or Theological Explanation? A Dialogue,” The Resurrection of Jesus: John Dominic Crossan and N. T. Wright in Dialogue, ed. Robert B. Stewart (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 2006), 17.
1 John 1:1–4; John 20:1–21:24; Acts 1:1–3, 2:29–32.
Expectations: Matt 28:8–20; Luke 24:13–52; John 20:10–23, 26–30, 21:1–14; Mark 16:6–7; statements: 1:1–3; 2:23–24, 32; 3:15; 4:10; 10:41; 13:30–34; 17:31; 23:6; 24:21; 26:8, 23.
Crossan, Jesus, 160–61. Italics are original.
Ibid., 87–89.
Ibid., 166–67; Acts 9:3–4, 22:6–7, 26:13–14.
Ibid., 169.
Genesis 12:7; 17:1; 18:1; 26:2, 24.
The following argument is based on Daniel B. Wallace’s discussion of the dative + the present passive indicative form of ōphthē in the New Testament in his Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996), 165, footnote 72; “horáo,” Walter Bauer, Frederick W. Danker, William F. Ardnt, and F. Wilbur Gingrich A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Christian Literature, 3rd ed. (Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 2000), 719.
Wallace, Greek Grammar, 165. What Wallace says for Paul applies equally to all listed in 1 Corinthians 15:5–8: Cephas and the twelve, the “more than five-hundred,” and James and the apostles. Crossan, Jesus, 164.
John Dominic Crossan and Richard G. Watts, Who is Jesus? Answers to Your Question About the Historical Jesus (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1996), 122.
Suetonius, Defied Augustus 13.1–2, Tacitus, Annals 6.29.
John Dominic Crossan, Who Killed Jesus? Exposing the Roots of Antisemitism in the Gospel Story of the Death of Jesus (New York: HarperCollins, 1995), 160.
Crossan, Who Killed Jesus, 163. In Crossan’s perspective, Joseph of Arimathea is purely a construct of Mark’s imagination; see his discussion on Luke 23:50–54 and John 19:35–42.
Crossan, Who Killed Jesus, 163–68.
Lee Strobel, The Case for Christ (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1998), 208.
Donald Guthrie, New Testament Introduction, 4th ed. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1990), 150.
Strobel, Case for Christ, 209.