‘Deciphering the Gospels Proves Jesus Never Existed’: Chapter 10, part 6

Deciphering the Gospels’, by R. G. Price, argues the case for Jesus mythicism, which is the view that Jesus never existed on earth in any real form but was an entirely mythical figure in the same way as Hercules or Dionysus. (The author is not the same person as Robert Price, also a Jesus mythicist author.) I’m an atheist who holds the opposing (and mainstream) view that Christianity started with a human Jesus. In other words, the Jesus referred to as the founder of Christianity was originally a 1st-century human being, about whom a later mythology grew up, whose followers became the original group that would mutate over time into Christianity. I’m therefore reviewing Price’s book to discuss his arguments and my reasons for disagreeing.

The first post in this book review is here. Links to the posts on all subsequent chapters can be found at the end of that post.

 

Chapter 10: Non-Christian Accounts Of Jesus

While this is the sixth (and last) post addressing this chapter, it’s the third of three posts on the specific topic of Josephus’s mention of ‘Jesus called Christ’ in the middle of an incident related in Antiquities 20. I’d recommend reading all three posts in sequence, so, if you haven’t already done so, the first on the ‘Jesus called Christ’ topic is here and the second is here.

In wrapping up and summarising the previous post, I pointed out that by far the most likely reason why Josephus’s works contain the mention of ‘Jesus called Christ’ is because this is indeed what Josephus wrote, and that the various alternative explanations that Price tries to give are, for one reason or another, highly unlikely. That being so, why is Price so reluctant to accept this phrase as being genuine to Josephus?

Of course, the obvious reason is that if Price can’t find a way to explain that phrase away it puts a huge hole in his theory. I don’t think it’s entirely unreasonable to theorise that perhaps that’s his main reason for trying so hard to believe in improbable alternative explanations. However, for completeness, I’m going to go through the reasons he’s actually stated and give my responses.

Nothing in this chapter or the passage has any relationship to “Jesus Christ,”

… you mean, apart from the literal relationship that the passage states that one of the people mentioned has to Jesus called Christ? The James mentioned is being identified by his relationship with his brother, Jesus called Christ. What part of that does Price feel doesn’t have any relationship to Jesus called Christ?

and the use of “Christ” as an identifier is quite odd, for Josephus never explains what this term means.’

Price seems to be completely misunderstanding identifiers. Identifiers were the equivalent of our use of surnames; they were ways of specifying which of many possible people of a given first name was the one to which the speaker or writer was referring. As such, writers would no more expect to have to explain the backstory of identifiers than we would expect to explain the meanings of people’s surnames when we introduce them. (Hands up; anyone here found it strange that in my many mentions of Price, it at no time even occured to me to explain that the surname ‘Price’ derives from ‘ap Rhys’? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?) In fact, we see this elsewhere even in Josephus, when at the end of the first chapter of Antiquities 20 he refers to ‘Joseph called Cabi’ without ever explaining what ‘Cabi’ means or why the Joseph in question was called this.

One argument against this being authentic is that Josephus doesn’t use the term Christos anywhere else, so it does not appear likely that this is original.

Why? Phrases can be quite identifiable (such as ‘called Christ’ appearing almost nowhere in Christian literature other than quotes from non-Christians, meaning that the use of that particular phrase indicates a strong likelihood of a non-Christian author). However, the most likely reason why Josephus wouldn’t use the word Kristos anywhere else is because no-one else at the time was well-known as being called Kristos and so the need never came up. (To go back to the previous example: Joseph also never elsewhere uses the term Cabi, but I don’t believe this has led anyone to conclude that his mention of ‘Joseph called Cabi’ is an interpolation.)

There are also no other examples in the works of Josephus of identifying someone in the manner that is used here if “who was called Christ” were talking about a different person from Jesus son of Damneus (i.e., mentioning the person being related first, and then the subject after, with an explanation of who the person being related is in between).

Since there are also apparently no examples in Josephus’s works of using identifiers in the bizarre way Price is trying to claim (either using an identifier only on the second mention of someone rather than the first, or using two different identifiers for the same person without clarifying that they refer to the same person), the ‘Josephus never does this elsewhere!’ argument doesn’t hold up the way Price wants it to. It did, however, make me realise another thing that Price doesn’t seem to have considered; that the argument that a Christian scribe changed the line here also works perfectly well for explaining how a sentence that did originally contain the phrase ‘Jesus called Christ’ could have ended up in the form we had today.

Let’s hypothesise, for example, that Josephus’s original text did have this mention, but written with the more expected ordering of ‘and brought before them James, the brother of Jesus called Christ, and some others’. A Christian scribe copying this, his mind on the importance of Jesus, then unthinkingly changes the order to put Jesus first: ‘the brother of Jesus called Christ, James by name’. Hey presto; a scenario that solves the problem of why Josephus would put Jesus’s before James’s, does so without requiring us to hypothesise that Josephus did something more unlikely, and does so using an mechanism (change made by a Christian scribe) that Price himself thinks could easily have happened.

Or, alternatively, the suggestion of a marginal note. Maybe Josephus only knew that one of the executed people was the brother of that strange rabbi who started a cult years back, and thus the line he originally wrote was ‘and brought before them the brother of Jesus called Christ, and some others’, and then, some years down the line, a Christian scribe (or even a non-Christian scribe who happened to know the story) added ‘James by name’ as a marginal note that another scribe later copied into the text. Since Price is happy with the idea that a marginal note could have been copied into the text, why not hypothesise that it was copied into a text that originally included the ‘brother of Jesus called Christ’ line?

Price, of course, is not going to want to consider either of those possible suggestions, because he’s only interested in explanations that let him conclude that Josephus wasn’t talking about Jesus the founder of Christianity. He wants to be able to explain this line away and go on with claiming that no historians of the time ever mentioned Jesus so that he can further claim that this supports mythicism. But, unfortunately for Price’s argument, the evidence does still point to this being an original line from Josephus that most likely referred to the person that Price is trying to claim never existed.

The other arguments against this being original deal with the structure of the sentence, the subject matter of the passage, the fact that even if Jesus Christ existed he would be an odd person for Josephus to use as an identifier for someone else, especially by brotherhood, and the fact that if this were talking about “James the Just” (which it almost certainly isn’t for reasons we shall see), then this James himself would have been more famous than Jesus at this point in time, so this association would have made no sense, as James himself, according to Christian legend, was a community leader and well-known person, though there is no reference to him in the non-Christian literature (unless this is a reference to him).

I’m quoting this sentence in its entirety because I cannot resist pointing out the irony of arguing that Josephus wouldn’t have used a cumbersome sentence. Yes, clearly we can work from the assumption that writers would avoid using cumbersome sentences… oh, wait. Anyway, let’s break it down:

The other arguments against this being original deal with the structure of the sentence,

As above.

the subject matter of the passage,

think this is another attempt on Price’s part to claim that Jesus had nothing to do with the subject of the passage apart from, y’know, the fact that he was apparently the brother of the main person executed and very plausibly the indirect reason why this group was in trouble in the first place. If so, it’s about as logical as asking why the second Jesus was identified as Jesus ben Damneus when Damneus had nothing to do with the passage. Jesus’s name is being used as an identifier of one of the people who is involved in the subject matter of the passage, and this was a normal way for people of that time to write.

the fact that even if Jesus Christ existed he would be an odd person for Josephus to use as an identifier for someone else, especially by brotherhood,

Why?

and the fact that if this were talking about “James the Just” (which it almost certainly isn’t for reasons we shall see), then this James himself would have been more famous than Jesus at this point in time, so this association would have made no sense, as James himself, according to Christian legend, was a community leader and well-known person, though there is no reference to him in the non-Christian literature (unless this is a reference to him).

James would have been known for being Jesus’s brother, and he was a community leader in the community founded by his brother. Identifying him by his brother makes perfect sense; for those of Josephus’s readers that knew of him, it would have been in the context of being Jesus’s brother.

The real question, however, is if this is James “the brother of Jesus Christ” of the Gospels, and Christians claim that the Gospels are true, then that would mean that this James would have to be in the line of David as well, and thus, if anything, it would have made more sense to qualify James by his father, Joseph, who would had to have been in the line of David, and thus would have been seen as prestigious name worth mentioning.

Oh, come on; this doesn’t even make sense from the Christian point of view. Supposedly Jesus was not only in the line of David but also the culmination of it as the awaited king; identifying James by him would have made perfect sense. It makes even less sense from the skeptic point of view, since the whole highly contradictory claim to the line of David is pretty clearly a retcon by people already convinced of Jesus’s messiahship.

Likewise, if this was “James the Just,” then why not identify him by his supposed prestigious position in society, instead of a link to being the bother [sic] of Jesus?

Because his prestigious position a) seems to have existed only within the nascent Christian movement and b) was because of being the brother of Jesus.

Anyway, that seems to exhaust Price’s attempts at explaining why he doesn’t think the phrase could be genuine. He goes on to put forth the arguments for alternative sources of the phrase that I covered in the previous post, and then to the conclusion of the whole chapter:

 

Chapter conclusion

…in which he makes one of his typical leaps from claiming something might have happened a certain way to declaring that it definitely did:

With all of this, we can see that there are certainly no solid independent attestations to the existence of Jesus Christ in the non-Christian literature. Modern scholarship recognizes that the Testimonium Flavianum is the only reasonably possible independent witness to Jesus Christ in the non-Christian literature, and there is nothing else aside from that one passage that could even claim to confirm his existence.

This is, quite frankly, absolute rubbish. Modern scholarship certainly has not discarded the Tacitean passage or the ‘called Christ’ line, and, whatever shade Price tries to throw, the idea that these passages aren’t even claims to Jesus’s existence is just plain silly. What we have is what we’d expect for someone who was a real figure with some relatively minor influence two thousand years ago; a couple of mentions by historians. I realise that’s inconvenient for Price’s theory, but, since he can’t produce anything solid by way of alternative explanations, he’s stuck with the fact that, within decades of the time Jesus is said to have lived, non-Christian historians are at least mentioning his life. Which is hard to explain under mythicism, but about what we’d expect to see from a Jesus who actually existed.

‘Deciphering the Gospels Proves Jesus Never Existed’: Chapter 10, part 5

Deciphering the Gospels’, by R. G. Price, argues the case for Jesus mythicism, which is the view that Jesus never existed on earth in any real form but was an entirely mythical figure in the same way as Hercules or Dionysus. (The author is not the same person as Robert Price, also a Jesus mythicist author.) I’m an atheist who holds the opposing (and mainstream) view that Christianity started with a human Jesus. In other words, the Jesus referred to as the founder of Christianity was originally a 1st-century human being, about whom a later mythology grew up, whose followers became the original group that would mutate over time into Christianity. I’m therefore reviewing Price’s book to discuss his arguments and my reasons for disagreeing.

The first post in this book review is here. Links to the posts on all subsequent chapters can be found at the end of that post.

 

Chapter 10: Non-Christian Accounts Of Jesus

This post follows on from the previous post, which discussed the line ‘brother of Jesus called Christ’ in Josephus, and I thus recommend reading that post first. This one addresses Price’s attempts to explain this line away.

Although Price doesn’t reference them, the suggestions he makes are for the most part not originally his; nearly all of what he writes was in Earl Doherty’s ‘The Jesus Puzzle’ from the late ’90s, and has been further publicised by Richard Carrier in his books and in a journal article. Anyway, here they are.

As per my last post, at the end of the passage Josephus mentions a Jesus identified as ‘Jesus ben Damneus’ (Jesus son of Damneus), who is elected high priest after Ananus is deposed. This is far less of a coincidence than it might at first seem; the name translated here as ‘Jesus’ originated as the extremely common Jewish name ‘Yeshua’ or ‘Yeshu’. Price points out that Josephus himself mentions something like fourteen different people with Iesus as a first name.

However, Price’s (well, Doherty’s) argument is that the mention of a second Jesus in this passage isn’t a coincidence, but another reference to the same Jesus. According to this theory, the Jesus referred to as the brother of the executed James was actually Jesus ben Damneus, who was mentioned twice in the passage, first as an identifier for the James who was executed and then as the next high priest. As for the ‘called Christ’ part of the phrase, Price suggests that this could have ended up in there in any of the three following ways:

  • As part of Josephus’s original text. In this proposed scenario, Josephus initially refers to Jesus ben Damneus as ‘Jesus called Christ’ and then a few lines later as ‘Jesus ben Damneus’, without bothering to clarify that these two mentions of apparently different Jesuses were in fact different ways of referring to the same person.
  • As a marginal note from a Christian reader. In this proposed scenario, the original line about Jesus and James simply read ‘brother of Jesus, James by name’. A Christian reader then mistakenly thought that this referred to the Jesus and James of Christian stories and accordingly scribbled the words ‘called Christ’ into the margin next to Jesus’s name. Since marginal notes were how people indicated to scribes that a correction needed to be made when recopying, a later scribe took it as such and added the words ‘called Christ’ to the main text.
  • As a later mistake by the Christian writer Origen. This scenario is similar to the last, but in this theory the mistake came about because of a citation Origen made of Josephus’s ‘Antiquitities’ as referring to the ‘brother of Jesus called Christ’. According to this theory, Origen was misremembering and quoting this line from another Christian writer but wrongly attributing it to Josephus, following which a Christian who had read this in Origen and noticed it wasn’t in Josephus assumed this was an error in their own copy of Josephus and added ‘called Christ’ in the margin of the text to indicate that it should be there.  The words then got copied into the text as above.

The first major problem with all of these scenarios is that they all require Josephus to use identifiers in a confusing way that would have been completely atypical for him.

‘Identifier’, here, refers to anything used as the equivalent of our use of surnames; something that specifies to which of many possible people of the same first name the text was referring. The formulation ‘ben ____’, meaning ‘son of ____’ was the most common, although it was also possible to identify someone by their place of origin or – as seems to be the case for the mention of Jesus here – by a note that they were ‘called’ such-and-such.

Josephus (as was normal for his time) regularly used identifiers of this sort. Apparently his practice in so doing was just what common sense would suggest:

  • He would use them for the first mention of a person’s name, thus letting the readers know which Jesus or James or Alexander or whoever was being talked about.
  • Following that, when he made further references to that person within the same passage, he would simply use the person’s first name.
  • The exception to this was when, having done the above he brought up someone else with the same first name (whom he would again initially refer to with the first name and another identifier and then by first name only, as above), and, having discussed that person, went back to talking about the person with the same first name that he’d been talking about earlier in the passage. On doing this, he would give the person’s name with identifier again in order to make it clear that this was the previous person named [Firstname] rather than the second person, referring to them as the ‘forementioned’ [Firstname] [Identifier].

All of this information comes from the second part of this post on the History for Atheists blog, where it’s illustrated with examples for anyone who wants to get a clearer idea.

The first major problem with Price’s suggestions, therefore, is that they involve scenarios that don’t fit Josephus’s typical use of identifiers at all. Price’s second and third suggestions both require Josephus to have initially identified whichever Jesus this was by only his extremely common first name, giving the identifier only on the second mention. As for Price’s first suggestion, this would require Josephus to have taken the even odder step of identifying the same person by two different identifiers without clarifying that he was doing so. And, unsurprisingly, it seems that neither of these options fits with how Josephus actually did use identifiers. As Tim O’Neill puts it in the above-cited post:

Nowhere in any of his works that I can find does Josephus refer to someone by their name alone when introducing them to his narrative for the first time (e.g. “Jesus”) and then refer to them by their name and an appellation a few sentences later (e.g. “Jesus, son of Damneus”). This is for the very obvious reason that it would be highly confusing to do so.

Jesus Mythicism 2: “James, the Brother of the Lord”

Price does suggest explanations:

Why wouldn’t Josephus put the “son of” identifier in the first reference instead of after the fact? Well, for the very reason that “brother of Jesus, who was called Christ, whose name was James,” seems odd—because it’s a double qualifier and a cumbersome sentence. In addition, the strong point of the passage is the naming of Jesus as the high priest, thus Josephus uses the formality of identifying Jesus by his father when he states that he was named the high priest.

But if this James was indeed the brother of Jesus ben Damneus, then, unless he was actually a maternal half-brother, he would have been the son of Damneus himself, and could easily and without the extra subclause have been identified correctly as ‘James ben Damneus’. Again, Price thinks he has an answer to this:

Why didn’t he identify James by his father instead? Because if James is related to Jesus son of Damneus, then this is implied, and Jesus is the more important figure—he is the one who becomes high priest.

So, Price is, in effect, hypothesising a situation in which Josephus simultaneously wanted to avoid cumbersome sentences and to identify someone in an inherently more cumbersome way, and was prepared to use this atypically botched identifier in order to manage these two contradictory aims. As usual, we’re expected to accept Price’s explanation instead of considering the rather more obvious explanation that Josephus did indeed write ‘brother of Jesus called Christ’.

It’s worth noting, here, that Price makes no attempt to back this up by referencing any potentially similar passages in Josephus’s work. (This is in stark contrast to the ‘History for Atheists’ post I quoted above, in which O’Neill quotes multiple examples to illustrate and back up his statements both about the way Josephus uses identifiers and about his use of the term ‘called’.) Did Josephus normally try to avoid lengthy multi-clause sentences? Did he have a habit of using identifiers at ‘the strong point of the passage’ even if that wasn’t the first time that the name had been introduced? Are there other places where he identifies people by the most important figure connected to them even where this makes a sentence more cumbersome rather than less? If Price can show examples of these points elsewhere in Josephus’s work, that would be good backup for his theories here. Conversely, if there are no such examples, that gives Price a problem. But we’re left not knowing, because he doesn’t address it at all. That’s the behaviour of someone who isn’t trying to find the explanation that best fits the actual evidence, but the explanation that best fits his own theory.

Anyway… having looked at the general problem with Price’s attempted explanations, let’s look at what Price thinks about the various ways in which ‘called Christ’ might have made its way into the text.

 

Price’s first hypothesis: Josephus himself used the phrase

This section is, by the way, the only part of Price’s suggestions regarding this phrase that doesn’t seem to have originated with Doherty or Carrier. Price does in fairness consider this the least likely of his suggested explanations, but he still thought it plausible enough to include, so let’s look at it. Why would Josephus have identified Jesus ben Damneus as ‘Jesus called Christ’?

Price assures us that it is ‘actually quite possible’ that Josephus would have referred to Jesus ben Damneus in this way:

“Christ” is just a transliteration of the Greek word Christos, which is a translation of the Hebrew Mashiah, which simply means anointed, or one who is anointed. Jewish kings and high priests were called anointed ones, and this is used many times in the Hebrew scriptures.

Now, this much is completely correct. The reason that the term the Messiah became used for the Davidian king prophecied in Jewish scriptures was because Jewish kings were ceremonially anointed as part of their coronation ceremony and thus ‘anointed one’ became a term used for ‘king’, in much the same way that ‘His Majesty’ might be used today. Hence, when discussing the unnamed Davidian descendant who was king in the Jewish prophecies of an amazing future, Jews started talking about him as ‘the anointed one’, which in Hebrew is ‘Mashiach’ (hard ‘ch’ sound on the end as in the Scottish ‘loch’) and in Greek is ‘Kristos’. The former became anglicised to ‘Messiah’ and the latter to ‘Christ’. But ‘anointed one’ could still be used as a general term for ‘king’, because the kings were literally anointed. And at some point anointing with oil also became a part of the induction ceremony for priests, so any priest could be referred to as ‘anointed’ and the term would be technically correct.

However, the problem with Price’s theory is that it would make no sense to use ‘anointed’ as an identifier. After all, the entire point of identifiers is to identify the person of whom the author is speaking, out of many other possible people with that first name. Using a term that could be used just as easily of any high priest would be no help at all for this. It would be as if I mentioned, say, King Henry of England, and, instead of using a numeral to specify which I meant of many possible King Henrys, I instead referred to him as ‘King Henry, called His Majesty’; it would be completely useless.

On top of this, it also completely contradicts Price’s above attempt at explaining why Josephus would have made such a peculiar botch of using an identifier. Price, you will recall, claims Josephus was just trying to avoid ‘a cumbersome sentence’ by not identifying this James as simply ‘James ben Damneus’ (as would have been the obvious way to identify him if this James had in fact been the brother of Jesus ben Damneus). But the Greek for ‘called Christ’ here is ‘tou legomenos Kristos’… which is, of course, longer and more cumbersome than ‘ben Damneus’. So, going with this scenario would leave Price without any sort of explanation of why Josephus would use identifiers in this way.

To be fair, even though he seems to have glossed over all these glaring difficulties, Price at least isn’t arguing too strongly for this particular hypothesis:

All in all, though, this was probably not the case

Ya think?

Price does also briefly throw in a couple of other theories at this point, so I’ll take a moment to address them, but they both make so little sense that he seems here to have been using a ‘throw anything you can at the wall and hope something sticks’ approach.

This passage could simply be saying that Jesus son of Damneus was considered a great person, or an already holy person

…..no, it couldn’t, because the term wasn’t used as a general synonym for ‘great’ or ‘holy’.

This could also simply be using a description of Jesus son of Damneus that he
was later called. This event supposedly happened around 62 CE, which is
getting very close to the First Jewish-Roman War, and this is a term that was even more heavily used in relation to “war priests,” or high priests during a time of war, or priests who, in the Jewish tradition, actually acted as generals.

Citation needed, please.

Jesus son of Damneus was not a high priest during the war,

…so in fact this also won’t stand up as a theory even if Price does give a citation for his claim about war priests being referred to as ‘anointed’.

but Jesus son of Sapphas was the son of a high priest and a general in the war; it could be talking about him.

Why would the son of a high priest be referred to as ‘anointed’ when he wasn’t the one who’d been anointed? And how are we supposed to account for Josephus identifying James by his brother rather than his son in this scenario, when Price’s argument elsewhere is that Josephus is deliberately trying to identify James by the most important person to whom he’s connected? If James was the brother of Jesus son of Sapphas the high priest, then he’d be the son of this high priest himself, and by both common sense and Price’s own argument we’d expect Josephus to refer to him as ‘James ben Sapphas’. Again, this doesn’t stand up at all.

Anyway, this is about all Price has to say on this particular hypothesis, so let us set it behind us and move on to the next.

 

Price’s second hypothesis: that ‘called Christ’ was a later accidental interpolation

To recap: In this theory, Josephus is still referring to Jesus ben Damneus both times, but identifies him as such only the second time, using just his first name the first time. Following this:

A Christian reading the work may have seen the names Jesus and James together and jumped to the conclusion that this was “Jesus Christ” and then made a note saying so. A later scribe would have then just incorporated it, assuming it to be true, in order to clarify the passage.

There are two problems with this (apart from the problem with the identifier use which we already discussed). The first leads us back to a point we encountered while discussing Paul: why would a Christian be making that assumption if not for the fact that their Jesus was already believed to have an earthly brother called James, and why would Christians believe that Jesus had an earthly brother called James if Jesus himself was thought to be an entirely heavenly being with no previous earthly existence?

The second problem is that it’s unlikely both theologically and practically that this hypothetical Christian reader would put the word ‘called’ in this hypothetical note. Theologically, there is the obvious fact that people who believed that Jesus was Christ (i.e. the Messiah) were unlikely to refer to him as called Christ, but simply as Christ (or possibly Lord, or Saviour, or similar). Practically, the Greek term for ‘called’ used here – ‘tou legomenos’ – is a long word to add when it’s an unnecessary extra in a marginal note.

In short, this hypothesis is also pretty implausible.

 

Price’s third hypothesis: Origen made the mistake

In this part of the hypothesis, Price is still going with the theory that Josephus’s line originally read ‘brother of Jesus, James by name’ and that the ‘called Christ’ phrase was a later addition. However, in this theory the phrase originates with Origen.

Origen was a theologian writing in the first half of the third century who, at three different points in his writing, cited Josephus’s ‘Antiquities’ as containing a mention of the death of Jesus’s brother James, in each case using wording very similar to the phrase that we have in Josephus:

James the brother of Jesus who is called Christ

Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew, Book 10 chapter 17

 

James the Just, who was a brother of Jesus (called Christ)

Against Celsus, Book 1 chapter 47

 

James the Just, the brother of Jesus who was called Christ

Against Celsus, Book 2 chapter 13

 

At first sight this looks like evidence for the phrase being authentic to Josephus. However, Price points out that we have a reason to doubt this; one of the things that Origen also says about this Josephan mention is clearly incorrect. On each of the above occasions when Origen cites Josephus, he also claims that Josephus attributed the fall of the Temple as being punishment for James’s execution… despite the fact that Josephus says nothing of the sort. Here are fuller versions of each of the passages above:

Flavius Josephus, who wrote the ​”​ Antiquities of the Jews ​”​ in twenty books, when wishing to exhibit the cause why the people suffered so great misfortunes that even the temple was razed to the ground, said, that these things happened to them in accordance with the wrath of God in consequence of the things which they had dared to do against James the brother of Jesus who is called Christ. And the wonderful thing is, that, though he did not accept Jesus as Christ, he yet gave testimony that the righteousness of James was so great; and he says that the people thought that they had suffered these things because of James.

Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew, Book 10 chapter 3

Now this writer, although not believing in Jesus as the Christ, in seeking after the cause of the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple, whereas he ought to have said that the conspiracy against Jesus was the cause of these calamities befalling the people, since they put to death Christ, who was a prophet, says nevertheless— being, although against his will, not far from the truth— that these disasters happened to the Jews as a punishment for the death of James the Just, who was a brother of Jesus (called Christ),— the Jews having put him to death, although he was a man most distinguished for his justice.

Against Celsus, Book 1 chapter 47

 

… for the siege began in the reign of Nero, and lasted till the government of Vespasian, whose son Titus destroyed Jerusalem, on account, as Josephus says, of James the Just, the brother of Jesus who was called Christ, but in reality, as the truth makes clear, on account of Jesus Christ the Son of God.

Against Celsus, Book 2 chapter 13

 

Price’s argument on the matter (or at least the unattributed argument Price uses here, which, again, seems to have originated with Earl Doherty) is as follows:

  • Josephus clearly does not say what Origen claims here that he said.
  • Therefore, Origen must have been confusing his sources and in fact citing a different writer rather than Josephus.
  • Therefore, Origen’s attribution of the line ‘brother of Jesus called Christ’ to Josephus is also incorrect.
  • Therefore, Josephus’s manuscript didn’t originally contain this line.
  • The ‘called Christ’ part of the line was probably added to Josephus by a scribe who’d also read Origen and therefore well-meaningly made a correction of the Josephan passage in accordance with what he believed it was supposed to say according to Origen.

The first point of this, at any rate, is clearly correct, so it’s worth thinking about whether the rest of it stands up. If Origen really was citing the Josephan passage, why did he claim that Josephus had said something that Josephus hadn’t?

One explanation I’ve seen for this is that Origen was simply reading things into the text that aren’t there and making assumptions about what Josephus was trying to say. While that’s certainly a possibility to consider and I’m not going to rule it out, the line ‘yet gave testimony that the righteousness of James was so great; and he says that the people thought that they had suffered these things because of James’ is specific enough that it has the ring of an indirect quote. On balance, I think that line does go better with the idea that Origen was unintentionally quoting someone other than Josephus.

However, Price’s explanation is also a bad fit for the observed facts.

Firstly, Origen makes this reference to Josephus three different times in two different works, using very similar wording each time. That’s an unlikely degree of consistency for someone who was thinking of the wrong writer in the first place.

Secondly, the phrase ‘called Christ’ was a rare one for a Christian writer to use, for the obvious reason that Christians believe that Jesus was Christ and so wouldn’t tend to refer to him as ‘called’ Christ. As far as I know, the only record we have of it being used spontaneously by an early Christian writer is Matthew 1:16; the handful of other examples we have in Christian writings all seem to be quotes from non-Christians. That in itself doesn’t prove the phrase came from Josephus, but does suggest that Origen almost certainly got the phrase either directly from a non-Christian writer or from a Christian writer who was himself quoting a non-Christian writer.

And finally, of course, Price’s explanation still gives us the problem of having to suppose very atypical identifier use from Josephus.

With all that in mind, this is my personal theory on the matter. It’s fair to point out here that I’m not a historian (and don’t play one on TV…), so, if anyone with actual familiarity with the works of Origen and/or ancient documents generally is reading this and spots any obvious flaw in my reasoning, please let me know.

What I suspect is that an earlier Christian author whose work has since been lost did indeed cite the ‘brother of Jesus called Christ’ line from Josephus, but also added his own opinion about the righteousness of James and the popular belief that his death was the cause of the fall of Jerusalem/the destruction of the temple, and inadvertently wrote all this in such a way that it looked as though this opinion was also being attributed to Josephus. (Given that it was the norm in those days to use indirect quoting rather than direct quotes with quote marks, this seems something that could plausibly happen.) Origen then used this unknown writer as his source rather than using Josephus directly. This resulted in Origen correctly reporting the Josephus quote, but then incorrectly attributing the writer’s follow-up lines to Josephus as well.

That is of course speculation, and for all I know someone who has a better idea of what they’re talking about will come up with some obvious argument against it that didn’t occur to me. However, it strikes me as at least being a more plausible explanation than the string of oddities required by Price’s theory.

 

So, where does this leave us?

While Price assures us blithely that there are many possible alternative explanations for the appearance of this phrase in Josephus, he’s overlooked the small issue of whether these explanations are at all likely. No matter how hard Price tries to explain this line away, we’re still left with the most likely reason for the line ‘brother of Jesus called Christ’ showing up in Josephus’s work being because Josephus himself wrote it.

 

 

‘Deciphering the Gospels Proves Jesus Never Existed’: Chapter 10, part 4

Deciphering the Gospels’, by R. G. Price, argues the case for Jesus mythicism, which is the view that Jesus never existed on earth in any real form but was an entirely mythical figure in the same way as Hercules or Dionysus. (The author is not the same person as Robert Price, also a Jesus mythicist author.) I’m an atheist who holds the opposing (and mainstream) view that Christianity started with a human Jesus. In other words, the Jesus referred to as the founder of Christianity was originally a 1st-century human being, about whom a later mythology grew up, whose followers became the original group that would mutate over time into Christianity. I’m therefore reviewing Price’s book to discuss his arguments and my reasons for disagreeing.

The first post in this book review is here. Links to the posts on all subsequent chapters can be found at the end of that post.

 

Chapter 10: Non-Christian Accounts Of Jesus

On to the other possible reference to Jesus discussed by Price; the passing mention of ‘Jesus called Christ’ in Book 20 of Josephus’s ‘Antiquities’. I had intended to cover this in a single post, but it got ridiculously long, so I’ve split it into three. This post focuses on general discussion/explanation of the quote, the next will discuss the various theories Price gives us as to how that line might have ended up in Josephus’s work, and the last one will discuss why Price doesn’t want to go for the most obvious explanation (namely, that Josephus actually wrote the line and was referring to Jesus).

In the context of the mythicism debate, the first two things to say about this quote are that it’s a) one of two quotes in Josephus mentioning Jesus, and b) not the one that’s known to have been tampered with. This is worth mentioning because commenters in mythicist debates do sometimes confuse the two (usually because their total knowledge of the subject comes from having skimmed the occasional podcast or post) and say something about ‘the Josephus mention’ clearly being a forgery. I think the little band of commenters I’ve got here actually do know the subject matter better than that, but in case anyone new turns up I’ll start out with a clarification of the basics:

  • The first Josephan mention of Jesus is a short paragraph in ‘Antiquities’ Book 18 generally known as the ‘Testimonium Flavium’, which is clearly at least partly forged and possibly entirely so. It is thus not much use for this debate. I’ve discussed this briefly here.
  • This post is going to discuss the second mention, which is also in ‘Antiquities’ but in Book 20. Unlike the first quote, this one is accepted by almost everyone in the scholarly world as genuine, for the simple reason that in this case there’s no apparent reason why a forger would go to the bother of inserting it.

Having got that out of the way, let’s take a look at the passage itself:

And now Caesar, upon hearing the death of Festus, sent Albinus into Judea, as procurator. But the king deprived Joseph of the high priesthood, and bestowed the succession to that dignity on the son of Ananus, who was also himself called Ananus. Now the report goes that this eldest Ananus proved a most fortunate man; for he had five sons who had all performed the office of a high priest to God, and who had himself enjoyed that dignity a long time formerly, which had never happened to any other of our high priests. But this younger Ananus, who, as we have told you already, took the high priesthood, was a bold man in his temper, and very insolent; he was also of the sect of the Sadducees, who are very rigid in judging offenders, above all the rest of the Jews, as we have already observed; when, therefore, Ananus was of this disposition, he thought he had now a proper opportunity [to exercise his authority]. Festus was now dead, and Albinus was but upon the road; so he assembled the sanhedrim of judges, and brought before them the brother of Jesus, who was called Christ, whose name was James, and some others, [or, some of his companions]; and when he had formed an accusation against them as breakers of the law, he delivered them to be stoned: but as for those who seemed the most equitable of the citizens, and such as were the most uneasy at the breach of the laws, they disliked what was done; they also sent to the king [Agrippa], desiring him to send to Ananus that he should act so no more, for that what he had already done was not to be justified; nay, some of them went also to meet Albinus, as he was upon his journey from Alexandria, and informed him that it was not lawful for Ananus to assemble a sanhedrim without his consent. Whereupon Albinus complied with what they said, and wrote in anger to Ananus, and threatened that he would bring him to punishment for what he had done; on which king Agrippa took the high priesthood from him, when he had ruled but three months, and made Jesus, the son of Damneus, high priest.

Josephus, Antiquities 20, chapter 9

So… a newly elected high priest by the name of Ananus decides to go for a power play before the newly elected procurator gets there, and arranges to have some people sentenced and executed without getting official permission first. This backfires on him when some people are rightfully concerned about this and speak out against it, resulting in Ananus getting kicked out as high priest and replaced by someone else, coincidentally also called Jesus but identified as ‘Jesus, son of Damneus’. And it so happens that, in the midst of this juicy anecdote, Josephus mentions that one of the people executed was ‘the brother of Jesus called Christ’. In other words, Josephus knows of a Jesus who was called Christ. Yes; now you come to mention it, we think we might have heard of that guy as well.

 

Why would Josephus bother mentioning this?

Why would Josephus bother telling us that one of the people executed was this particular Jesus’s brother? On this we can only speculate, but there is one obvious possible answer: it’s plausible that, by this point, this tiny but spreading cult was well enough known that Josephus would expect many of his readers to have heard about this pesky group of troublemakers that had been started by someone by the name of Jesus whose followers referred to him as Christ. If so, then this reference would clue people in to the reason why Ananus put James and co. up for execution; because they were among the followers of this Jesus called Christ.

Price doesn’t accept that this could have been the case:

In addition, since this is something that is occurring around 60 CE, it would seem quite odd to identify James by his association to a person whom the Jews had supposedly killed as a criminal some thirty years prior to the event, and sixty years prior to this writing.

Christians argue that this was done because Jesus Christ was so well known that it makes the passage make sense, but as we have seen, no one prior to Josephus had even written about Jesus Christ aside from some Christians, so it certainly does not seem that he was well known at all.

Price seems here to again be falling into the trap of assuming that the small proportion of writings that have been copied often enough over the intervening two millennia to be preserved for us to read actually equate to the amount of information that was available at the time. In reality, of course, information would also have been passed on by word of mouth and by writings such as letters that nobody thought to copy and preserve over the centuries.

It’s worth noting here that Price himself has made a claim earlier in this same chapter that requires us to believe that people were hearing about Jesus and his followers in other ways; if you recall, Price was quite happy to assure us that claims about this ‘Christ’ being executed under Pilate ‘would have been common knowledge by 109’. Well, if so, then that leaves us with the possibility that this same piece of information would have been at least somewhat known by the mid-90s CE when Josephus was writing this, thus making it plausible that Josephus might have expected many of his readership to have heard of this group who referred to their leader as ‘Christ’ and followed this Christ’s brother as a temporary replacement leader.

It’s also worth revisiting this comment of Price’s from Chapter 5:

Furthermore, if Jesus had been executed by the Jews during the reign of Pilate due to being a seditious rabble rouser, then wouldn’t followers of his that continued worshiping him in the years after his death have been seen by Jewish leaders as criminals or threats?

Why, yes. Yes, they probably would. And, more to the point, they would have been seen by Romans as criminals or threats, meaning that people would have remained aware of his followers and we can expect that there would have been at least some talk in elite Roman circles about this troublemaking group. I can’t see it being that big a topic of conversation, but it seems the sort of thing likely to get the occasional passing mention, in a ‘those pesky Christians, what are they up to now? <eyeroll>’ sort of way. That is exactly what we’d expect to happen, by Price’s own argument as well as by common sense. And so, once again, it makes absolute sense that Josephus might have expected his readers to be aware enough of this group that they would pick up on his passing reference to them.

 

Is it even helpful to the debate?

This wasn’t in fact a point made by Price, who’s focusing on attempts to claim that Josephus never said this in the first place, but as it’s a point I’ve sometimes seen raised in other mythicist discussions I’ll address it for completeness:

Josephus wasn’t even born at the time that Jesus supposedly died, so he cannot possibly have ever met him or have first-hand knowledge of him. Which is, by the way, completely normal for historian authors and is not normally considered an issue for dismissing everything they have to say on a subject. However, this is Jesus mythicism, and so now and again a Reddit commenter or the like will start in with the claim that as Josephus never actually met Jesus he can’t provide any evidence of his existence.

Now, I know I keep citing Tim O’Neill, but he made a really good point about this: Josephus was around for this whole incident with Albinus and the unlawful execution. We know from his own autobiography that he would have been a young man living in Jerusalem at the time (the early 60s CE) and that he was from a priestly family, meaning his own social group would have been rocked by this incident and it would have been a major topic of conversation at the time. And while this wouldn’t have told him anything whatsoever directly about Jesus, who was decades dead by then, it would have put him in a good position to know whether this James was in fact being referred to at the time as ‘the brother of Jesus called Christ’.

In other words, Josephus is another good witness (along with Paul, who actually mentions meeting James) to the fact that James, a human on earth, was known as Jesus’s brother. And, as previously discussed, humans aren’t generally referred to as the brothers of mythical beings who had only a heavenly existence; the term ‘brother’ when applied to a human being, whether literally or metaphorically, normally means that the brother was also human. Josephus’s single passing comment tells us that a real human man was referred to as this Jesus’s brother, and thus gives us yet another piece of solid evidence that Jesus was also a real human.

Which, of course, is not at all what Price wants to think, and so he tries hard to give other possible explanations for this quote. The next post will discuss those.

‘Deciphering the Gospels Proves Jesus Never Existed’: Chapter 10, part 3

Deciphering the Gospels’, by R. G. Price, argues the case for Jesus mythicism, which is the view that Jesus never existed on earth in any real form but was an entirely mythical figure in the same way as Hercules or Dionysus. (The author is not the same person as Robert Price, also a Jesus mythicist author.) I’m an atheist who holds the opposing (and mainstream) view that Christianity started with a human Jesus. In other words, the Jesus referred to as the founder of Christianity was originally a 1st-century human being, about whom a later mythology grew up, whose followers became the original group that would mutate over time into Christianity. I’m therefore reviewing Price’s book to discuss his arguments and my reasons for disagreeing.

The first post in this book review is here. Links to the posts on all subsequent chapters can be found at the end of that post.

 

Chapter 10: Non-Christian Accounts Of Jesus

So far, we’ve discussed why we wouldn’t expect Jesus to show up in any accounts by his contemporaries regardless of whether or not he existed, and why some of the apparent mentions of Jesus in slightly later works are also not much help in establishing whether he existed. That leaves two passages that need addressing; the mention in Tacitus’s ‘Annals’ (44:28 at that link, as part of a short passage about Christians themselves being persecuted), and Josephus’s mention of ‘the brother of Jesus called Christ’ in Antiquities 20. Both of these, although brief, do provide good evidence for Jesus’s existence, and both are, of course, dismissed by Price.

Price discusses the Tacitus passage first of the two, so I will also go for that order and will discuss Tacitus’s mention in this post and the Josephus line in a separate post.

 

Background

First, a disclaimer: I haven’t read Tacitus or studied the classics for myself, unless you count my Latin O-level. (Don’t. It really isn’t worth counting in this context. Or in almost any context, for that matter.) My information on this comes primarily from this post on the History for Atheists blog, which is written by Tim O’Neill, a skeptical blogger with a history degree and a relevant Master’s degree, according to his ‘About’ page. I’ve checked the references in the post for myself and also read what other online information I could find about Tacitus’s writing. If anyone with better background knowledge of Tacitus than me (which, by the way, I would bet actual money does not include Price) wants to put forward an argument for disputing any of the points made here, I’m willing to take it on board.

Anyway, here’s what I have learned:

Tacitus was a Roman politician who wrote several very well-known and well-respected historical works, and who apparently had a useful commitment to letting his readers know when the information he was passing on was something he’d effectively heard only through rumour and couldn’t validate; he would qualify these claims with a phrase such as ‘it is said’ or ‘in popular report’. Tim O’Neill, as well as giving several references himself to examples of this, also cites Mendell’s book ‘Tacitus: The Man And His Work’ here:

Mendell goes on to note 30 separate instances in the Annals where Tacitus is careful to substantiate a statement or distance himself from a claim or report about which he was less than certain (Mendell, p. 205).

O’Neill, Jesus Mythicism 1: The Tacitus Reference To Jesus (link as above)

However, Tacitus – as was normal for historians of his time – usually didn’t give us references for where he got other pieces of information. There are some exceptions; for example, in 15.74 he mentions having found a particular point ‘in the records of the Senate’, and in 3.3 he mentions checking ‘the historians and the government journals’ regarding the question of whether Germanicus’s mother attended his funeral (which apparently he could find no record of her doing even though he found records of Germanicus’s other relatives being there, so it’s an interesting example of giving evidence for a negative). In 11.27, acknowledging that the story he has just told seems unbelievable, he takes pains to assure us that he has not embroidered the story and that ‘all that I record shall be the oral or written evidence of my seniors’. We also have a surviving letter from Pliny the Younger that states up front that it was written in reply to Tacitus’s request of him for information on the death of his uncle Pliny the Elder, so this is an external example of Tacitus checking with a reliable source. We don’t, however, get references for the vast majority of points he makes (which, once again, was normal for historians of the time).

What all this seems to add up to – and, again, I’m quite happy for anyone with better knowledge of Tacitus’s works to chime in if they feel they can support a different viewpoint – is a picture of a writer who aimed for scrupulosity both in checking his facts with sources that he considered to be reliable and in alerting his readers when he was instead reporting points he couldn’t verify, but who for the most part didn’t tell us what his sources were whenever he did consider them reliable. From that, it seems fair to conclude that, where Tacitus gives us information that he doesn’t qualify with any version of ‘it is said’ or ‘in popular report’, it is likely that he got it from a source that he himself considered trustworthy.

With all this in mind, here is the passage in question:

But neither human help, nor imperial munificence, nor all the modes of placating Heaven, could stifle scandal or dispel the belief that the fire had taken place by order. Therefore, to scotch the rumour, Nero substituted as culprits, and punished with the utmost refinements of cruelty, a class of men, loathed for their vices,​ whom the crowd styled Christians.​ Christus, the founder of the name, had undergone the death penalty in the reign of Tiberius, by sentence of the procurator Pontius Pilatus,​ and the pernicious superstition was checked for a moment, only to break out once more, not merely in Judaea, the home of the disease, but in the capital itself, where all things horrible or shameful in the world collect and find a vogue.

Annals, Book 15, chapter 44

So, what do we learn here? As of some point around 115 – 120 CE (it’s not clear exactly when the Annals were written or published, but that’s the estimate I found), Tacitus believed that someone known as Christus had been sentenced by Pontius Pilate during Tiberius’s reign and executed, having first founded a very unpopular group in Judea, known as Christians, whose beliefs then spread to Rome. And, since he doesn’t add any qualifiers about this being ‘said’ or ‘reported’, he probably got this information from a source that he thought to be reliable.

(As to what that source might have been, Tim O’Neill hypothesises that Tacitus spoke to a Hellenised Jew, quite possibly Josephus. From what I can see, this is plausible, though of course unprovable. Either way, we still have the important point that Tacitus apparently felt his source for this information, whoever or whatever it was, to be reliable.)

Price’s view

Price first gets into a brief digression querying why Nero would have been persecuting Christians in the first place or whether this group of Christians was ‘even the same group of Christians as those who were believers in Jesus Christ’ (as opposed to… some other group also following someone called Christ who was crucified by Pilate?). Having done that, he tells us that the passage is ‘not an independent witness to the existence of Jesus’.

Indeed, Tacitus is clearly relaying information that originally came from Christians themselves…. New Testament scholar John P. Meier acknowledges that here Tacitus is only passing on information gleaned from Christians

Now, going back to O’Neill’s post for a minute, O’Neill makes a really good point about this common mythicist dismissal of the Tacitean passage; it is clear from the passage that Tacitus despised Christians. O’Neill brings this up to point out that they would, therefore, hardly have fitted Tacitus’s idea of a source reliable enough that he didn’t feel the need to qualify it, but the point made me realise something else: Tacitus wouldn’t have been having conversations with Christians about their beliefs in the first place. It would be the equivalent of you or me deliberately striking up a conversation with a Jehovah’s Witness or a Mormon about their teachings. So we can quite reasonably dismiss any idea that Tacitus got his information directly from Christians.

However, Price is more likely to have meant that Tacitus’s information came indirectly from Christians (as in, snippets of information about Christian belief could by then have percolated through society to the point where they were also widely known amongst non-Christians).

The information that he is passing on would have been common knowledge by 109 CE

And it’s very interesting that Price thinks this, because it causes yet more problems for his theory.

One obvious problem here is that this, again, wouldn’t fit with Tacitus’s penchant for clarifying when the information he passed on was just what was ‘said’ or ‘reported’; since he doesn’t add that clarification here, it seems unlikely that this is something he absorbed in a general ‘everyone knows that’ sense. It doesn’t quite rule it out – after all, even skeptics can slip up on skepticism sometimes – but it does make it unlikely. But there’s another big problem, and that’s the timeline Price has just given himself.

Price’s theory, to recap, is that the original Christians (proto-Christians?) believed that the Messiah had already lived, been executed, and been resurrected in heaven only, where he could be uncorrupted by the material world. At some point after the Jewish-Roman War, Mark wrote a fictional story, intended only as an allegorical message, about this Jesus living an earthly life as a preacher and being crucified on earth rather than in heaven. This fictional story – somehow – convinced so many people that multiple other people wrote expanded versions of the story without noticing that the person they were writing about had never existed. Eventually things reached a point where the entire group believed so completely in this earthly Jesus who’d never lived that the original belief in a heavenly Jesus was completely obliterated.

Now, Price has never explained just how a single allegorical story could not only so drastically mislead so many people but reach the point of ultimately overriding the group’s existing beliefs about Jesus so thoroughly that the original beliefs vanished without trace. He’s never explained why the supposed belief in a completely heavenly Jesus of the original church leaders could be so thoroughly suppressed that it didn’t survive in our literature even as a heresy to be refuted. He’s never explained why so many people in a group who were supposedly being taught by their leaders that their Jesus existed only in heaven would read one story and believe that this was the truth and that their own leaders were wrong. He’s never explained how the subsequent gospel authors – including Luke, the one who Price agrees was trying to at least do some kind of historical research into his writing – never noticed that they were writing about a man who never lived on earth. So that’s already a gaping hole in his theory.

But he also, now, has his problem compounded by the timeline by which all this would have had to happen. He’s set up a hypothesis in which the story of this fictitious person’s fictitious earthly execution under Pilate is, less than fifty years later, so widely believed by even non-Christians that the skeptical Tacitus passed the information on absolutely unquestioned. That would mean this sea change would have to have happened over less than a human lifetime. There would have still been people alive in the Christian church who remembered being taught a completely different version of Jesus’s story as children. How, exactly, does Price think the new belief would have taken over the group so completely that the previous one vanished like that and, instead, even widespread numbers of non-Christians had heard about this execution under Pilate that in fact never happened?

Of course, there’s a much simpler theory for how Tacitus could have come to believe that Jesus was executed under Pilate: Jesus actually was a person whose execution was ordered by Pilate, this information was passed on when people had disapproving conversatoins about those troublemaking Christians, the Christians themselves couldn’t refute this as it had in fact actually happened, and thus it was that at some time by or before the early second century this information was widely known enough that someone Tacitus trusted as a reliable source could have been aware of it and passed it on to Tacitus at some point. So, yet again, we have a situation where Jesus-historicity explains the evidence much better than Jesus-mythicism. If Price still wants to argue that the claim about Jesus being executed under Pilate could have become public ‘knowledge’ by the early second century despite never (under his theory) having happened, then it’s on him to come up with a plausible explanation.

‘Deciphering the Gospels Proves Jesus Never Existed’: Chapter 10, part 2

‘Deciphering the Gospels’, by R. G. Price, argues the case for Jesus mythicism, which is the view that Jesus never existed on earth in any real form but was an entirely mythical figure in the same way as Hercules or Dionysus. (The author is not the same person as Robert Price, also a Jesus mythicist author.) I’m an atheist who holds the opposing (and mainstream) view that Christianity started with a human Jesus. In other words, the Jesus referred to as the founder of Christianity was originally a 1st-century human being, about whom a later mythology grew up, whose followers became the original group that would mutate over time into Christianity. I’m therefore reviewing Price’s book to discuss his arguments and my reasons for disagreeing.

The first post in this book review is here. Links to the posts on all subsequent chapters can be found at the end of that post.

 

Chapter 10: Non-Christian Accounts Of Jesus

Price goes on to address the five passages from the end of the first/early second century that are generally cited by Christians as being early evidence for Jesus. In chronological order of when they were written, these are:

Price, of course, dismisses all these references for various reasons. Just to make a change, I agree with him about some of them. In this post, I’m therefore going to go through the three references that I agree are little or no help in determining whether Jesus existed, and explain why I agree with Price that these three should be dismissed as evidence in this particular debate.

 

The Testimonium Flavium

The Testimonium Flavium, a short passage in Josephus’s ‘Antiquities’ describing Jesus, would have been excellent evidence except for one major problem: Several of the lines in it were quite clearly added to the manuscript by an over-enthusiastic Christian scribe at some later date, and this, unfortunately, raises the question of whether any of the passage originated with Josephus or whether it was all the work of the unknown forger.

There has been considerable scholarly debate on this question over the centuries, with no definite consensus to this day. Based on comparisons of the more plausible parts of the passage with Josephus’s style and analysis of slightly different manuscript traditions, the majority of scholars have concluded that at least some of the passage originated with Josephus. (And, no, these aren’t just Christian scholars grasping at straws, but also include Jewish and non-religious scholars.) However, the view that the whole passage is a Christian interpolation is by no means a fringe view; it’s held by a sizeable minority of scholars, including some eminent ones in the field. Blogger Tim O’Neill has a readable summary of the arguments, but the tl;dr is that we simply don’t know either way.

You will be unsurprised to hear that mythicists are firm supporters of the argument that the whole passage is an interpolation (and that this is what Price argues). In fact, mythicists will often extend this to claiming that Josephus’s other mention of Jesus must also be an interpolation, and quite possibly to any passages in any document that seem to support historicity. The more clearly Christian-interpolated lines in the TF are Jesus scholarship’s Piltdown Man; an obvious fake that has long since been recognised as such but is used by a fringe group with an agenda to cast discredit on the whole field.

I’m not arguing quite the same position as Price on this one. He, of course, is arguing that the whole passage is a fake, whereas my position is that it’s more likely to be partly real but that we can’t know either way. However, for purposes of the mythicism argument it comes to the same thing; there is too much doubt about the authenticity of this passage to use it as evidence for Jesus’s existence.

I do, however, think there are two important takeaways from the debate over the TF, before we move on:

Firstly, ‘can’t know either way’ cuts both ways. While there’s too much doubt over even the partial authenticity of this passage to use it as evidence for the Jesus-historicist side, there’s also too much doubt over the claim of complete forgery for us to be able to say that Josephus didn’t mention Jesus here. And that, of course, causes further problems for the already poor argument that historians mysteriously never mentioned Jesus. Josephus, unlike the other historians held up for candidates of same, actually is a good contender for someone who might well have mentioned a historical Jesus, in that he does write about various other rabbis and Jews with anti-Roman followings. And, lo and behold, we have a situation where he might indeed have mentioned a historical Jesus; we just don’t know whether he did or not. So, while this Schroedinger’s Mention isn’t enough for active evidence for the historicist side, it does put an extra nail in the coffin of the ‘historians didn’t mention Jesus!’ mythicist argument.

And, secondly, the forged lines in the passage give us a test case as to how the world of biblical and NT scholarship actually does react to an obvious forgery about Jesus (as we know at least some of the lines in the TF to be, whatever your position on partial authenticity). I raise this because I’ve noticed that mythicists sometimes seem to fall into the habit of not only dismissing pro-historicist evidence as possible interpolation, but also dismissing scholarly consensus of the authenticity of such passages with a ‘well, they would, wouldn’t they?’ attitude in which it’s assumed that the only reason relevant scholarship don’t think these passages are interpolations is because scholarship in this area is too Christian-dominated to consider the possibility. This therefore becomes a good excuse for dismissing any passages that are awkward for mythicists to explain away. (Yes, yes, #notallmythicists, but it’s certainly an attitude I’ve seen.)

That being so, I think it’s instructive to note the actual reaction of Jesus-related scholarship to a genuinely obvious interpolation: Everyone in the field accepts that the more obviously Christian lines in the passage are interpolated, and, although the ‘total interpolation’ position is the minority view, it’s still a respected view that has its place in scholarship rather than being dismissed. And, hence, the belief of some mythicists that it’s only bias that prevents experts as recognising any other mythicist-inconveniencing passages as interpolations doesn’t really stand up.

One final point: In anticipation of commenters about to unleash C&P’d arguments about how the total-interpolation position clearly must be the correct one (cough db cough), I’ll say here and now that I’m not particularly interested in arguing the merits of either partial authenticity vs. total interpolation or ‘we can’t know either way’ vs. ‘obviously totally interpolated’. What I do believe is that random people C&P-ing internet arguments they like the look of aren’t the most authoritative sources for a controversy on which actual scholars of the topic can’t reach a consensus. So, for those genning up to give their opinions on this particular subject; well, go right ahead if that’s what you enjoy, just be aware I’ll probably ignore you.

 

Pliny the Younger

I agree with Price on this one; this letter is clearly about Christians rather than about Jesus. While Pliny’s comment that the Christians ‘sing a hymn to Christ as to a god’ (emphasis mine) does seem to imply that the Christians in question also described their Christ as something other than a god (i.e., an earthly person), that is a really slender thread on which to hang any argument. So, while I find this letter fascinating as a non-Christian’s view of Christianity back when it was a rather odd new cult rather than the most famous religion in the Western and possibly the entire world, I don’t think it has anything of substance to offer this particular debate.

 

Suetonius

Finally, this passage is another one that can be quickly disposed of in this argument. The passage in question only tells us that someone called Chrestus was thought to have instigated Jewish riots. While it’s natural that Christians would assume this to be a misspelling of ‘Christus’, the fact is that ‘Chrestus’ was also a first name in the Roman Empire, and that there is nothing in the passage to indicate that this ‘Chrestus’ was Jesus rather than someone with the name Chrestus. Rather the contrary, considering that whoever this Chrestus was he was apparently in a position to be able to be accused of instigating riots almost twenty years after Jesus would have died, which doesn’t prove he wasn’t Jesus (after all, people are still supposedly being instigated to do stuff by Jesus two millennia later) but does mean Suetonius is rather unlikely to have been talking about Jesus. So, again, I agree with Price here; this gives us no helpful evidence regarding Jesus’s historicity, and can be discarded from the debate.

 

Which leaves…

… the Tacitus reference and the Josephus ‘brother of Jesus called Christ’ mention, which Price covers in that order and which I will therefore also cover in that order. So, the next post on this chapter (which might or might not be the actual next post depending on whether I decide to do a ‘Walking Disaster’ post in between) will be on the reference in Tacitus, and the one after that (ditto) will be on the Josephus Antiquities 20 reference. See you then.

‘Deciphering The Gospels Means Jesus Never Existed’: Chapter 10, part 1

‘Deciphering the Gospels’, by R. G. Price, argues the case for Jesus mythicism, which is the view that Jesus never existed on earth in any real form but was an entirely mythical figure in the same way as Hercules or Dionysus. (The author is not the same person as Robert Price, also a Jesus mythicist author.) I’m an atheist who holds the opposing (and mainstream) view that Jesus was originally a human being of the 1st century about whom a later mythology grew up. I’m therefore reviewing Price’s book to discuss his arguments and my reasons for disagreeing.

The first post in this book review is here. Links to the posts on all subsequent chapters can be found at the end of that post.

 

Chapter 10: Non-Christian Accounts Of Jesus

First off, a small detail that is driving me nuts; I have corrected the capitalisation in the above chapter heading, but Price wrote it as ‘Non-christian Accounts Of Jesus’. ‘Christ’ is a proper noun and thus that, and words deriving from it, should be capitalised. Every time I open up the menu with the chapter list, that ‘Non-christian’ niggles at me and eats into my deeply pedantic soul. R.G., if you take nothing else on board from this entire critique, fer cry yi yi PLEASE at least get the grammar in the chapter headings correct in further editions.

[Edited to add: On this one, Price is blameless. It was the editor’s fault. Consider that plea to be redirected to the editor, or at least the proofreader.]

Thank you. I feel better now.

In this chapter, Price goes along with a very common misconception among people who know little or nothing about ancient history; the idea that we could expect Jesus to have been mentioned in numerous surviving written works of the time, and therefore there’s something mysterious about the paucity of such mentions (a mystery which, you guessed it, can only be solved by assuming Jesus didn’t exist).

The overwhelming lack of commentary about Jesus in the historical sources
of his supposed time has troubled Christian scholars from the very beginning.

That might very well be true; after all, this lack of mention certainly should be a problem for Christian scholars. According to their beliefs, Jesus was God Incarnate, working dazzling miracles, arriving on earth to be the sole saviour of all humanity, rising from the dead and appearing to hundreds in his magically risen form, impacting upon the world like a thunderclap. The fact that none of this gets mentioned in any of the non-Christian sources of the time does indeed raise some major questions as to the validity of those claims. (Which, by the way, is a good anti-apologetic argument that mythicists tend to overlook and weaken in their insistence on focusing on claims that Jesus didn’t exist at all. The lack of surviving mentions in non-Christian sources actually is good evidence against the Christian claims about Jesus.)

However, the debate here is not over that Jesus. It’s over whether the Jesus in whom the movement originally believed was a real person who walked the earth a couple of millennia ago and had a following prior to being executed. And, as people who actually know their ancient history will tell you, such a Jesus wouldn’t be someone likely to get mentioned in contemporary works. He would have been one of many apocalyptic preachers and faith-healers of the time, and the many surviving works we have from authors of the time typically don’t bother mentioning people in those categories.

(One other important factor to bear in mind, of course, is that most things written at the time haven’t survived. The material typically used for paper at the time – papyrus – crumbles to dust after a few centuries, so the physical documents written at that time are long since dust on the winds. The writings we still have are the ones that someone at the time took the trouble to copy and then recopy over the centuries. The overlap between ‘writer important enough to have works copied and preserved in such a way’ and ‘writer who wanted to spend time recording the doings of some minor-league troublemaking Jewish preacher’ is, in practice, negligible.)

There are at least a couple of mentions of Jesus in the late 1st/early 2nd century, which we’ll get to in later posts. Before getting to those, however, Price first focuses on writers whose lifetime overlapped with Jesus’s estimated lifetime. (That specific requirement is one that tends to come up a lot among mythicists. It seems to be a combination of vague assumptions: a) that information that doesn’t come from a personal eyewitness is somehow useless, and b) that any author who lived in Jesus’s time would surely have not only heard about him but also introduced it into their written work, however irrelevant.)

Anyway, Price gives us a list of

[…] some of the primary persons who lived during the supposed lifetime of Jesus, whose works we do have and who we could reasonably expect would have mentioned Jesus had he existed… All of these people lived during roughly the same time that Jesus supposedly lived and are prime candidates for being potential witnesses to, and documenters of, the existence of Jesus.

Let’s start out by looking at that ‘prime candidates for being potential witnesses’ claim.

First off, realistically, none of the authors whose works have survived to the modern day are ‘prime candidates’ for having seen Jesus. From the scanty information we have, it seems Jesus spent most of his life in the backwater region of Galilee followed by less than a week in Jerusalem (already a large city with tens of thousands of people) during an unspecified year. We simply cannot pinpoint any supposed movements of either Jesus or of authors of the time with remotely the accuracy needed to pick out ‘prime candidates’ for having seen this one particular person at any particular time.

And, secondly, even allowing for that, Price seems to be stretching the definition of ‘prime candidates’ astonishingly. His list includes:

  • Pliny the Elder, who was in fact born in North Italy in 23 CE and grew up there. Yes, his lifespan technically overlapped with that of Jesus, but at the time Jesus would have been executed Pliny was a child growing up hundreds of miles away. How is he a ‘prime candidate’ for having witnessed a rabbi in Galilee or Jerusalem?
  • Velleius Paterculus, a former soldier who published a political and military history. We know nothing about his whereabouts in the later years of his life, and this includes the years that Jesus might have been preaching.
  • Valerius Maximus: we know almost nothing of his life, and so can’t say where in the Roman Empire he was living at any given time.
  • Seneca the Younger: born in Spain, lived in Rome. I can find nothing to say that he ever visited Galilee or Jerusalem.

Price does marginally better with the example of Justus of Tiberias, in that he did at least come from Galilee. The problem here is that – as even Price points out – he was probably born only after Jesus supposedly died, making him another very unlikely candidate for having seen Jesus. (By the way, Justus also doesn’t fit the ‘works we do have’ criterion; he’s known to have written at least two books, but neither of them have survived, so that’s another inaccuracy from Price.) And, while Philo of Alexandria probably did visit Jerusalem once in his life, the odds that that happened to be during the tiny window of time that Jesus was there are very low indeed. Price’s description of these people as ‘prime candidates’ for supposedly having witnessed Jesus is an unfortunate illustration of his stretching of facts and lack of critical thought on the matter.

Then, there’s the matter of what these writers wrote. Bear in mind again, here, that Price is saying that we would expect these authors to have written about Jesus:

  • Justus of Tiberias, the author Price lists as second only to Philo of Alexandria as a candidate for someone who ‘should’ have mentioned Jesus in his work, wrote a history of the Jewish War (which took place decades after Jesus’s death) and an apparently brief history of Jewish kings. Price glosses over this last by simply describing it as ‘a well-preserved history of the region’, but the mention we have of it, in Photius’s Bibliotheca, does specify that it was a history of kings. In other words, hardly the kind of work that bothers to mention itinerant rabbis.
  • Pliny the Elder’s most famous work, the one for which he is mainly known, was a book on natural history. According to the Britannica article about him, he is also known to have written works on ‘grammar, a biography of Pomponius Secundus, a history of Rome, a study of the Roman campaigns in Germany, and a book on hurling the lance’. That’s a laudably broad bibliography, but it’s hard to see how ‘rural rabbis’ or ‘Messianic wannabes’ would make it into any of those works as a subtopic.
  • Seneca the Younger wrote about Stoic philosophy, which has nothing to do with alleged teachings of Jesus.
  • And Velleius Paterculus wrote a Roman history that, according to Price’s own description, ‘covers history up to 14 CE’. I leave as an exercise for the reader why this might not have mentioned a rabbi whose best-known activities seem to have occurred in the early years of the 30s CE.

Valerius Maximus’s work seems potentially more promising at first sight, since the title translates as ‘Memorable Deeds and Sayings’, which at least might have covered deeds and/or sayings attributed to a rabbi. However, let’s look at what Valerius himself has to say in his opening lines, with emphasis mine:

I have resolved to collect together the deeds and sayings of most note, and most worthy to be remembered, of the most eminent persons both among the Romans and other nations, taken out of the most approved authors, where they lie scattered so widely, that makes them hard to be known; to save the trouble of a tedious search, for those who are willing to follow their examples. Yet I have not been over-desirous to comprehend everything. For who in a small volume is able to set down the deeds of many ages?

So, Valerius is looking for deeds and sayings of the people he’d consider ‘the most eminent persons’; in other words, not a Jewish preacher from a rural backwater. He’s looking for them in ‘the most approved authors’. Even if there had been any chance of him counting the anonymous authors of a strange religious cult in that category (which, let’s face it, there wasn’t), Valerius published his book in 30 CE, many years before the gospels would even be written; and, even on the small off-chance that Valerius might have lived in a part of the empire in which he’d have happened to hear about a Galilean preacher via word of mouth, that wouldn’t have interested someone who was specifically looking for sayings and deeds already thought worthy of recording by ‘approved authors’. And Valerius himself points out that he’s got no chance of covering every possible interesting deed or saying in this book and he’s not even going to try to do so. The result, not surprisingly, is a book that doesn’t seem to mention any rabbis, as far as I could see from skimming through the religion section.

That leaves Philo of Alexandria, who is Price’s top pick for Person Who Should Have Mentioned Jesus; ‘If Philo had known about Jesus, he surely would have written something about him’ Price insists with his usual seamless transition from might-have-happened to must-have-happened. And here he is, at least, dealing with a might-have-happened; he’s not as totally off base as he was when he was insisting that mentions of Jesus surely ‘should’ have been included in a very brief book about kings or in a work of natural history or in a history that covered a time period ending almost two decades before Jesus did anything even vaguely notable. Philo was a Jew writing about religious ideas and the occasional event of interest, he was an adult at the time Jesus was actively preaching, he did go to Jerusalem at one point, and so it’s not totally out of the question that he might have a) heard of Jesus and b) thought he was worth mentioning in one of his works. It’s just a massive exaggeration to declare this to be a definite.

Price’s certainty is, you might be unsurprised to hear, based on some fairly spurious reasoning. He declares that the gospel authors might well have used Philo’s writings, as though that somehow means that the reverse would have been true. He makes much of the fact that Philo writes about Pontius Pilate, as though this would have somehow meant Philo could have known (or cared) what the most famous scene of Pilate’s life would retrospectively, generations later, turn out to be. He claims that Philo personally lent money to Herod Agrippa I, the king of the Jewish population of Judea a decade after the time Jesus was supposedly executed; apart from the bizarrely tenuous nature of the attempted implication that this somehow makes it a certainty that Philo would have a) heard of and b) written about Jesus, this claim doesn’t even seem to be correct, since it was actually Philo’s brother who lent the money. Price seems to have misread his source article on that point.

All of this is piled on top of a description of Philo that’s downright skewed to start off with; Price describes him as a ‘historian’ who ‘reported on events throughout the Mediterranean world’ and that he ‘traveled throughout the Roman Empire’. In fact, nearly all of Philo’s works are commentaries on either the Torah or philosophy, his few historical accounts are about matters that were directly relevant to his life, and we only know of one trip that he made to Rome and one probable trip, of unknown date, to Jerusalem. So Price is considerably exaggerating some aspects of Philo’s known life story to make him sound more likely to have encountered/written about Jesus.

Stripping all of that away… was Philo someone who wrote about a comprehensive list of contemporary rabbis? This was difficult for me to answer as I’ve read almost none of his works and don’t realistically have the time to read through them, but I thought of a handy way to check. I downloaded the Kindle version of Philo’s complete works, which is quite cheap to do, and did a wordsearch on it for three names of rabbis who were particularly well known in the rabbinical world in that period of Judaism: Hillel, Shammai, and Gamaliel.

While Hillel’s name at first seemed to pop up several times, I rapidly ascertained that these mentions were in the modern-day commentary included with the book, not in anything Philo himself had written. As for Shammai and Gamaliel, I couldn’t find any mention of either name (even trying the alternative spelling of ‘Gamliel’, which I gather was sometimes used). So, if those search results were correct, Philo didn’t mention any of the three rabbis who were most famous in that time period. It seems extremely unlikely that an author of that time who actually was interested in citing rabbis contemporary to him wouldn’t mention any of those three. Therefore, even without having read Philo’s extensive body of work, I feel comfortable in deducing that Philo was not, in fact, someone who cited rabbis of his time.

If I’m wrong and Price is in fact aware of numerous such rabbis cited by Philo whom he simply neglected to mention in his list of Reasons Why Philo Would Definitely Have Written About Jesus, then I’m happy for him to give me the citations. But, from what I can currently see, it looks as though Philo simply wasn’t particularly interested in naming/citing particular rabbis, even those who were considerably more well-known in their time than Jesus was. So, unfortunately for Price’s argument, even his top candidate for Person Who Surely Would Have Mentioned Jesus seems, in practice, to be yet another person who wasn’t actually likely to have mentioned Jesus.

In future posts: a couple of other people who I agree probably also did not say anything helpful about Jesus… and a couple who did.

‘Deciphering The Gospels Means Jesus Never Existed’: Chapter 9, part 4

‘Deciphering the Gospels’, by R. G. Price, argues the case for Jesus mythicism, which is the view that Jesus never existed on earth in any real form but was an entirely mythical figure in the same way as Hercules or Dionysus. (The author is not the same person as Robert Price, also a Jesus mythicist author.) I’m an atheist who holds the opposing (and mainstream) view that Jesus was originally a human being of the 1st century about whom a later mythology grew up. I’m therefore reviewing Price’s book to discuss his arguments and my reasons for disagreeing.

The first post in this book review is here. Links to the posts on all subsequent chapters can be found at the end of that post.

 

Paul and Jesus’s brothers

Out of all the comments from Paul that I listed in the previous post that point towards Paul having believed in an earthly Jesus, Price addresses only one more; Galatians 1:19.

This verse, for context, is in the middle of a passage in which Paul is letting the Galatians know how little contact he’s ever had with the church (which, to Paul, is a positive, because he believes that this means he’s working solely from what Jesus told him to do rather than from the influence of less enlightened church members), so Paul is stressing how little time he’s spent with the church and how few of the apostles he saw while there. However, he does tell us that as well as staying with Cephas (Peter) during the fifteen days he spent there, he did meet one other apostle, named in the Greek as ‘Iacobus’, a name which our translations consistently anglicise as ‘James’ (as this is the version of the name used in all English works, it’s the version I’ll use as well throughout this post). And, the important point for our purposes… Paul identifies this Iacobus/James as ‘the Lord’s brother’. Since ‘the Lord’ is one of the terms Paul uses for Jesus, this means that Paul is saying he met Jesus’s brother.

Since mythical divine beings don’t typically have real-life flesh-and-blood brothers walking the earth and meeting people, that one passing comment is a pretty significant problem for mythicist theory. Let’s look at what Price has to say about it.

Price’s explanations

Price gives us two different theories. The first is that ‘brother of the Lord’ was just a general term used for Christians:

Many people, including Earl Doherty and Arthur Drews, have pointed out that the term brother or brothers was regularly applied to apostles and members of the church in general and conclude that this is how it was being used here as well.

Except that it isn’t. There are indeed many examples of church members referring to one another as ‘brothers’, a clearly metaphorical term indicating close bonds of union in shared belief; when Paul used the term in that sense, as he often did, he was implying that the person in question was metaphorically his brother due to their shared membership of the church. Or, even more than that, that the person or people referred to were metaphorically brothers to everyone else in the church. However, there’s a crucial difference in the wording here. In this verse, James isn’t being referred to just as ‘brother’; he’s being referred to as ‘the Lord’s brother’. That’s a very different phrase. Paul wasn’t referring to James as his (metaphorical) brother, but as the brother of the Lord; i.e. Jesus.

Now, it might of course still be meant metaphorically. Maybe Paul meant that James had had a deep enough bond with Jesus for the two of them to be described as brothers even without having an actual blood relationship. However, while that is plausible, it still doesn’t fit well with mythicism. We don’t typically describe actual humans as having even a metaphorical fraternal relationship with divine heavenly superbeings. A child-to-parent relationship, sure; Judaism has used that particular metaphor for millennia, with Christianity following in its tracks. But not a brotherly relationship, with its rather different connotations of a bond between equals.

This, however, does bring us to Price’s second theory; that ‘the Lord’s brother’ was meant metaphorically in a different sense. Not to describe a particularly close bond, but as a title to indicate James’s level of importance in the church, or perhaps his sterling qualities:

If this is the case, then the reason that Paul called James “the Lord’s brother” in Galatians is because James was seen as such a major pillar of the community, whom people called a “brother of the Lord,” which was a title similar to “the Just.”

So this theory is effectively the reverse of the previous one; Price is now theorising that, far from ‘brother’ being meant in the sense of a generic title for any male church member, it was a specific title for this one man in particular. Price thinks that over time this metaphor became misunderstood as a claim that this particular James was literally Jesus’s brother:

This James was only later considered to be a literal brother of Jesus. It was probably the early Christian chronicler Hegesippus, in the late second century, who recorded the first concrete association of “James the Just” as the literal brother of Jesus, helping to cement this view into Church tradition.

The first problem with this explanation is that ‘brother of the Lord’ is not, in fact, similar to ‘the Just’. ‘The Just’ is a title that refers to an important quality of the person described, while ‘Brother of the Lord’ refers to a relationship, not a personal quality. But it’s still possible that this phrase could have been used as a metaphor, and, interestingly, we do have some evidence for this. Price quotes this passage from Origen which was written in the third century:

Paul, a genuine disciple of Jesus, says that he regarded this James as a brother of the Lord, not so much on account of their relationship by blood, or of their being brought up together, as because of his virtue and doctrine.

Against Celsus; Origen

Origen seems to be citing a letter we no longer have, as none of the existing letters attributed to Paul say any such thing. So, this raises the question of whether Paul actually did write something similar to the phrasing Origen here attributes to him. Unfortunately we can’t assume that he did, partly because Origen seems to have been willing to be rather free with his citing of what writers actually said (in the same passage he claims that Josephus attributed the fall of Jerusalem to the killing of James, which isn’t at all what Josephus says) and partly because so many later epistles were falsely claimed to have been by Paul that we can’t assume Origen had a genuine Pauline epistle here.

However, if Paul actually did write the words attributed to him by Origen, then that’s a very interesting contribution to the debate which doesn’t point in the direction Price thinks. If Paul actually found it worth spelling out that James’s appellation of ‘brother’ was not ‘on account of their relationship by blood or of their being brought up together’, then that is strong evidence for an early church who followed a human Jesus. If a group who followed a divine heavenly being did take the highly unlikely step of referring to one of their human members as this divine heavenly being’s brother (and it is highly unlikely, as I wrote above), then it would have been very obvious that this was metaphorical. No-one there would have had to spell out that this wasn’t on account of a blood relationship or being brought up together, because no-one in the group would have thought for a minute that it would be. If Paul really did write those words, then that would point clearly to a human Jesus.

However, since we can’t know whether Paul wrote those words or not, that doesn’t help us. We’re left with the same question as before: how likely is it that a group would describe one of their human members, however virtuous, as metaphorically the brother of their heavenly quasi-divine leader who only dropped in from heaven to visit them? And with the same answer as before: not very likely at all.

On top of this, we have an even bigger problem with Price’s interpretations here: Galatians 1:19 is only one of the two places in which Paul uses this phrase.

The problem of 1 Corinthians 9:5

1 Corinthians 9:5 is, as it happens, also a passing comment in the middle of a mini-rant. Paul isn’t happy about the church refusing to support him financially in his work of preaching the gospel, although he is Absolutely Not Trying To Claim This Support because he considers himself obliged to preach the gospel regardless, but still, hmph, what about all these other church members who get supported for this work the way the scriptures apparently say they should… And, in the middle of this, he happens to make this comment:

Do we not have the right to be accompanied by a believing wife, as do the other apostles and the brothers of the Lord and Cephas?

So, Paul not only refers to ‘brothers of the Lord’, he does so in a way that inadvertently makes it clear that they are in a separate category from ‘the other apostles’ and ‘Cephas’. ‘Brother of the Lord’ therefore was clearly an appellation that was given to more than one person, that wasn’t just some sort of generic term for church members overall, and that also wasn’t a term for particularly important church members (or Paul wouldn’t have differentiated ‘the other apostles’ and ‘the brothers of the Lord’ as two separate groups).

And so, yet again, we have something that’s very difficult to explain under mythicist theory but very easy to explain under historicist theory; if Jesus was a real person, of course it was plausible for his parents to have had other children.

So, how does Price explain 1 Corinthians 9.5?

In one of the most notable pieces of question-begging I’ve seen in a while, Price actually quotes this verse in support of his argument by assuming that it can’t mean actual brothers and working from there to claim that this verse therefore proves Paul would use ‘brother of the Lord’ in a way that doesn’t mean an actual brother of the Lord.

The five hundred brothers mentioned in 1 Corinthians 15, as well as “brothers” mentioned in 1 Corinthians 9, are examples that are often cited to show the use of brothers of the Lord in ways that clearly don’t mean literal relatives. […] Some people even try to argue that this mention of brothers in 1 Corinthians 9 means relatives, but this really wouldn’t make sense, for why would literal brothers of Jesus even be a part of this issue, especially since in later accounts where literal brothers of Jesus are discussed, they have nothing to do with him or his movement? Indeed Jesus’s family is portrayed as being rejected by him in the Gospels.

Firstly, I have to point out that the ‘some people’ who believe this mention of ‘brothers’ to refer to actual brothers (or at least actual relatives) include, as far as I know, everyone who’s ever read this passage bar the occasional mythicist. I mean, someone (hiya, db!) is probably going to dig me out an obscure reference to someone somewhere who has argued otherwise, but when practically everyone believes the obvious meaning of a word in a passage to be the actual meaning then I don’t think ‘some people try to argue’ is quite the correct phrase.

Secondly, the passage tells us why Jesus’s brothers would ‘even be a part of this issue’. Paul is complaining that he doesn’t qualify for a privilege (getting church support for himself and a dependant) that some other groups of church members do. The brothers of Jesus are a part of this issue because they do get this privilege which Paul thinks he should have. Price is talking as though there’s some kind of inexplicable mystery about the idea of ‘brothers’ here referring to actual brothers when, in fact, it makes perfect sense in context.

Thirdly, let’s look at Price’s claim that ‘later accounts’ (which I assume from context has to mean the gospels) show Jesus’s brothers as having nothing to do with him/his movement. After going through the very brief references in the gospels to Jesus having a brother called James, which are indeed blink-and-you’ll-miss-them, Price makes this point:

Given that the Gospels were all written after the works of Paul, and that the Gospels serve as a backdrop for the Christian movement, and that the Gospels establish the positions of the major Christian leaders, it would not make any sense for the Gospels to totally ignore James the literal brother of Jesus […] if James the brother of Jesus is the one who was a leader of the Christian community.

Which would be a good point, except that, later in the chapter, Price himself gives us a plausible counterargument without even noticing that he’s done so. Here’s what Price says later in the chapter:

In both the writings of Paul and the Gospels, conflict between James son of Zebedee and the others is shown. […] It appears, according to the writings of Paul, that James and John held to a more Jewish version of the faith and did not embrace the Gentile apostleship.

In the first century, however, James son of Zebedee was considered a pillar of the Christian community, but perhaps later Christians sought to exclude him from tradition and sever ties to his sect.

The references to ‘James son of Zebedee’ here are a little confusing. Price is referring to the ‘James’ mentioned in Galatians 2 (verses 9 and 12), who is not specifically identified but from context is probably the same James mentioned in 1:19. Even if that isn’t the case, this James seems rather unlikely to have been James the son of Zebedee, as Acts 12:2 tells us that that particular James was killed by Herod Antipas quite early on, at a point which would have been well before the visit to Jerusalem to which Paul is referring in Galatians 2. However, via some interesting logic contortions, Price seems to have convinced himself that a) Acts was wrong on this point and b) that this James must be the son of Zebedee rather than any of the other people of this very common name.

However, all that is by-the-by. Setting aside the dubious ‘son of Zebedee’ claim, let’s look at Price’s main point here: the possibility that later Christian authors would have wanted to downplay the importance of an early church member who held to a theology different from that which eventually won out. And Price is onto something there. We know that there was significant conflict in the early church. We know that Pauline theology was the one that eventually won out. And, in view of the conflict described in Galatians, we have reason to suspect that this theology wasn’t the one held by Jesus’s original followers.

So, on the background of that first-century conflict, how would church writers from the Pauline side of the church have dealt with awkward traditions about key members of the early church having held to beliefs that were now considered mistaken? I agree with Price on this one; that would have been rather a strong motive to downplay the importance of these people in the accounts. (It wouldn’t even have had to be a conscious thing; more a case of ‘Well, James was clearly misguided, so let’s focus on what these others had to say’.)

In other words, we have an obvious explanation from Price himself of why the gospels might have wanted to ignore a brother of Jesus who became a leader in the early Christian community; because tradition had preserved the rather awkward information that this brother did not agree with the new belief system that, by the time of the gospels, was being taught as The Truth. As potential motives go, I’d say that’s a satisfactorily convincing one. And so, in fact, we have a good explanation of why the gospels had so little to say about James, and Price is wrong when he thinks we’re forced to fall back on the explanation that James wasn’t an actual brother of an actual Jesus.

In conclusion

Paul makes two passing mentions of brothers of Jesus (one of ‘brothers’ collectively and one of a specific brother), which Price, despite his best efforts, has not managed to explain away. And there’s an important difference between these two mentions and the other information we get from Paul about Jesus; these can’t be easily dismissed as just Paul’s own beliefs.

We’ve had to be very cautious about using other Pauline-derived information as evidence for the historicity side, because Paul himself makes it so clear that he gets his information about Jesus from what he thinks Jesus told him in a vision. Therefore, although Paul clearly did believe that Jesus had lived a human life, and made many comments referring to this, we can’t assume that this belief came from actual knowledge of what the original church were saying rather than from his own belief about what he thought Jesus had said to him in visions. However, the mentions of Jesus’s brothers come from much more prosaic sources. He mentions the brothers collectively because he’s annoyed that the church is giving them and their wives financial support which he himself doesn’t get, and he mentions James in particular because he met him.

So this, unlike most of what Paul says, actually is reliable information. Not theological expositions based on visions, but passing comments about people of whose existence and status Paul has personal knowledge. These two comments that Paul makes in the midst of rants about other issues are very good evidence that the Lord of whom he’s speaking (Jesus) had human brothers. And that, in turn, is good evidence that Jesus was human.

‘Deciphering The Gospels Proves Jesus Never Existed’ review: Chapter 9, Part 3

‘Deciphering the Gospels’, by R. G. Price, argues the case for Jesus mythicism, which is the view that Jesus never existed on earth in any real form but was an entirely mythical figure in the same way as Hercules or Dionysus. (The author is not the same person as Robert Price, also a Jesus mythicist author.) I’m an atheist who holds the opposing (and mainstream) view that Jesus was originally a human being of the 1st century about whom a later mythology grew up. I’m therefore reviewing Price’s book to discuss his arguments and my reasons for disagreeing.

The first post in this book review is here. All subsequent posts will be linked at the end of that post as they go up.

 

Chapter 9: Finding Jesus In Paul’s Letters

We’ve seen Price’s arguments about Paul’s writings supporting mythicism, and I’ve discussed why they don’t hold up. Time to look at the other side. Are there passages in Paul’s letters that would point to him believing in an earthly Jesus?

A slight but relevant digression from the specifics of Price’s book:

Some years ago, having been impressed by Carrier’s mythicism polemic ‘On the Historicity of Jesus’, I decided I should go back and read the authentic Pauline letters with the mythicist argument in mind. After all, the book seemed convincing and well researched, and Carrier seemed very sure that Paul’s letters indicated a mythical Jesus, so probably I’d been reading them wrong. I reread them in light of mythicist theory, expecting it to be rather like the experience of rereading a book once you know the plot twist at the end; I’d see things falling into place, would read passages in a new light that made far more sense of them.

Here’s what I actually found.

  • Romans 1:3. Paul refers to Jesus as ‘descended from David according to the flesh’.
  • Romans 5:12-18. This is a lengthy passage in which Paul repeatedly compares Jesus to Adam (who, remember, Paul would have believed to be a human being who had lived on earth). In particular, from some work with the GreekBible.com site I found that in verse 15 Paul uses the word ‘anthropou’, meaning ‘human’, to describe Jesus.
  • Romans 8:3. Paul refers to God sending Jesus ‘in the likeness of sinful flesh’. While mythicists have a habit of interpreting passages like this as meaning that Jesus wasn’t really a being of flesh, this is missing a key point; Paul clearly thought Jesus had showed up in what at least appeared to be a normal human body. And, unless you want to argue for the Docetist viewpoint that Jesus only appeared to be flesh and blood but was in fact a cunningly divinely-designed simulacrum, the obvious reason why someone would appear to have a normal human body is that they actually had a normal human body.
  • Romans 9:4-5. Paul describes Jesus as coming from the Jewish race ‘according to the flesh’.
  • 1 Corinthians 9:5: Paul mentions brothers of the Lord (‘the Lord’ being one of Paul’s terms for Jesus) whose wives were supported by the church.
  • 1 Corinthians 11:23-25: Paul describes Jesus instituting the Eucharist. This is, it should be noted, considerably less helpful than Jesus-historicists often think; although it would be too much of a digression to discuss now, there are plausible reasons to suspect that this was in fact one of Paul’s ‘revelations’ about Jesus rather than an actual historical event that Paul had learned about from existing group members. However, it’s still noteworthy that Paul describes Jesus as taking a loaf of bread, breaking it, giving thanks for it (which would have been, and still is to this day, a standard thing for a practicing Jew to do when about to eat bread), and taking a cup of wine ‘after supper’, implying that he also ate a meal between the bread-breaking and the wine. It’s not impossible that Paul could have believed in someone doing all these things in heaven, but it seems unusually physical and prosaic for a concept of heaven. Therefore, although it’s weaker than most of the others on the list, I think this one is nevertheless worth counting in the list of passages indicating Paul’s belief in a historical Jesus.
  • 1 Corinthians 15:4. Like the previous one, this is a detail within a passage that is overall easy for skeptics to disregard, as it’s about Jesus being raised from the dead and appearing to people in visions; I think one point on which Price and I can certainly agree is that these things did not actually happen, and thus this passage is not particularly helpful to the history-vs-mythicism debate overall. However, I bring it up here because Paul specifically mentions Jesus as being buried, which, again, is quite a physical detail to mention about someone that you think has only existed in heaven. Paul might potentially have believed that burial could happen in a heavenly dimension, but that seems at the very least less likely than that he believed it happened on earth. Again, I certainly wouldn’t hang the case for historicity on this one detail, but it’s yet another thing to tip the scales at least slightly more towards historicity, so I’m including it in the list.
  • 1 Corinthians 15:12-22. This is a lengthy passage in which Paul cites Jesus’s resurrection as evidence for the resurrection of the dead. It culminates in Paul specifically referring to Jesus as a human being (v21). Even before that, though, Paul’s making an argument that wouldn’t make sense if he wasn’t teaching his followers that Jesus had been a human. ‘Now if Christ is proclaimed as raised from the dead, how can some of you say there is no resurrection of the dead?’ Paul asks rhetorically. This would be rather a strange example for him to use if he knew that the answer would be ‘Because Christ was a heavenly being and we’re talking about what happens to human dead!’.
  • 2 Corinthians 5:16. This is a rather odd verse in which Paul says that they now don’t regard anyone ‘according to the flesh’, which one translation that I found interprets as ‘from a worldly point of view’, which probably makes more sense. However, from our point of view the important point here is that Paul says that they did at one point regard Christ as being ‘according to the flesh’; i.e. having a genuine flesh-and-blood body.
  • Galatians 1:19. Refers to a brother of the Lord (Paul’s term for Jesus) whom Paul had briefly met.
  • Galatians 3:16. Refers to Christ as an offspring (in the sense of ‘descendant’) of Abraham.
  • Galatians 4:4. Refers to God’s son as having been ‘born of a woman, born under the Law’.
  • Philippians 2:7. Refers to Jesus as being ‘born in human likeness’ and ‘found in human form’.

I was trying to be as fair as possible in weighing up the evidence, and thus ended up leaving one potential item off the list; 1 Thessalonians 2:14 – 16. This refers to Jesus being killed by the Jews in the same way as the prophets were, but also has an antisemitic slant to it that isn’t typical of Paul, as well as seeming to hint about the destruction of the Temple, which would have post-dated this letter; many scholars therefore believe this to be a later interpolation rather than words of Paul. So, while whoever wrote those verses certainly seems to have believed in a physical earthly Jesus, there is enough uncertainty over whether that person was Paul that I decided that that line was unhelpful for ascertaining what Paul believed.

Which left the above list. Carrier’s book did address a few of those lines (‘born of a woman’, ‘descended from David’, and the ‘brother’ quotes) by explaining them away with mythicist-consistent excuses and calculating that they were still fully compatible with a likelihood that Jesus was mythical. However, reading all of Paul’s letters with mythicism in mind and instead coming across all of the above lines or passages in turn was quite a different experience from reading mythicist claims about how Paul only wrote ‘a few’ things that seemed to ‘hint’ at an earthly Jesus.

And that was how, by the time I finished the read-through that I had expected to give me a new appreciation of Paul’s supposed mythicist views, I found it undeniably clear that Paul had believed Jesus lived a human life on earth. It was, of course, very debatable how much credence to give this view, given Paul’s penchant for getting his beliefs about Jesus from ‘revelation’ in preference to what existing church members told him; I felt it only fair to consider the possibility that this belief in Jesus’s earthly life might in itself have been one of Paul’s ‘revelations’ rather than anything we’d consider reliable information, and so I didn’t find it that much help in the mythicism-vs-historicity argument. But, for whatever it’s worth, it’s clear that Paul did at least believe in what we would now call a historical Jesus.

Back to Price. Since Price believes that Paul didn’t believe Jesus to be a real person, what does he say about all of the above? Well, most of them he doesn’t seem to have noticed. Out of all of the above, Price only addresses two issues; the ‘born of a woman’ quote and the issue of Jesus’s brothers. Which would, even if he did successfully refute those issues, still leave more than enough passages to indicate that Paul believed in Jesus’s earthly existence. But since Price did at least address those two and spend quite some time on trying to explain away the obvious problems they cause for his theory, I’ll discuss his arguments.

I’ll look at the ‘born of a woman’ discussion here as it was shorter, and address the ‘brother(s) of the Lord’ discussion in a later post.

 

‘Born of a woman’: Price’s explanations

First of all, I don’t think it’s particularly important whether or not Paul viewed Jesus as purely heavenly or not

I tend to agree with this sentiment, for reasons explained previously, but it strikes me as rather a contradiction for Price to be saying this after pages of using Paul’s quotes as support for mythicism without any such disclaimers. Can’t have it both ways; does he think Paul’s views on the subject are important evidence or not?

but secondly, this is by no means a literal statement by Paul, as he is in the middle of allegorical statements that he himself says are allegorical

It hardly follows from this that all the statements Paul doesn’t label as allegorical are also allegorical. On the contrary; since we can see he was clear about stating which parts of the passage were allegorical, it makes it less likely that this would be so of the ones that aren’t thus labelled. (There’s also, of course, the question of how it would make sense to say that a real being – as Paul believed Jesus to have been, regardless of whether he believed him to have been a heavenly or an earthly being – was allegorically born of a woman.)

and thirdly this is part of a special pleading to a group of people who clearly have had problems with Paul’s teachings where he is trying to appeal to them on a new and different level that he feels is more acceptable to them.

There’s nothing in this letter to indicate that Paul’s trying to change anything about his teaching to make it more acceptable to the Galatians. He’s explaining it in different ways to try to get his point across, but he isn’t changing anything about it. Quite the contrary; he’s angry with the Galatians and can’t understand why they don’t just get with the programme here.

But on top of that… even if Paul was trying to take the approach of making his teachings more acceptable, why would saying that Jesus was ‘born of a woman’ do this? Why would the Galatians – from a culture who believed in heavenly beings and their importance – find a Jesus who was created in heaven unacceptable and need him to have had a human birth before they would accept Paul’s theology? And why, if this was indeed a point of contention, do we not see any hint of Paul trying to discuss this issue or persuade them? He throws in ‘born of a woman’ parenthetically in passing as a descriptor of Jesus and gets on with his argument about the law no longer being binding. There is nothing anywhere in the letter to indicate that Paul had had any sort of disagreement with the Galatians on this particular point or felt any sort of need to appease them about it.

Paul goes on to tell a story about two women who give birth to children, and Paul says that these women represent covenants, and the woman of the promise “corresponds to the Jerusalem above; she is free, and she is our mother.”

Price is correct on this point. Paul is citing the scriptural story of Hagar and Sarah, which he says is an allegory in which the two women represent covenants. (For context, this is part of a larger allegory Paul is using in this chapter, about slaves vs. heirs; in Paul’s allegory, Jews who still hold to the Jewish law are slaves while the ones redeemed by Jesus’s sacrifice are now heirs to the kingdom of God. The Hagar and Sarah story is used as a specific illustration, as they had sons fathered by the same man but Hagar was a slave whose son was cast out and Sarah a free woman whose freeborn son inherited, all of which made them a good example of Paul’s point for his Jewish readers who would have known the story well.)

However, Price then makes his leap of logic:

The woman that Paul is talking about in Galatians 4.4 is an allegorical woman, not a real woman,

I haven’t omitted anything between this sentence and the previous one I quoted; Price really has leaped straight from the observation that Paul referred to the story of Hagar and Sarah as allegorical to an assumption that a different woman he referred to eighteen verses earlier was somehow also allegorical. Nice try, but doesn’t work in context.

and in fact this passage provides further evidence that Paul’s Jesus was not a historical person.

How? Well, here’s what Price says:

Paul says that the Son of God was born under the law, but the law is in heaven; he is talking about the heavenly covenant and a heavenly birth!

This conclusion baffled me for a while, since Paul says nothing whatsoever about the law being in heaven, a claim which would in any case hardly fit with Paul’s main claim that the law is an intolerable burden from which Jesus’s followers have now been freed. The only way I can make any sense of this is to theorise that Price has incorrectly assumed that ‘covenant’ is another word for ‘law’ and thus, having followed Paul’s train of thought here to the logical conclusion that the covenant to which Paul is referring exists in heaven, interpreted this as the law being in heaven and Jesus’s birth under the law therefore being likewise in heaven. Unfortunately, if this is the explanation, it doesn’t work, because ‘covenant’ doesn’t mean ‘law’; it means ‘promise’. So, if this was Price’s reasoning, it’s fatally flawed. If this wasn’t Price’s reasoning, then he’s going to have to explain his actual reasoning if he wants it to make any sense.

If Paul were talking about a real women here, and Jesus’s earthly birth, then why does he give no details about the matter? Why not say that he was born to Mary or that he was born in Bethlehem, or anything else?

Because he’s writing a theological polemic, not a biography.

He clearly isn’t giving a historical account of anything, but his lack of detail, here and throughout his writings, works against the claim that Paul had knowledge of a historical Jesus.

The ambiguity of this phrasing has the potential to get a bit confusing, so let’s clarify. In terms of whether Paul ‘had knowledge of’ Jesus in terms of either knowing him personally or knowing details about his life, we’ve already established that he didn’t and that he preferred it that way. So, in that sense, I completely agree that ‘the claim that Paul had knowledge of a historical Jesus’ is provably false.

However, of course, that isn’t what Price is trying to say. He’s trying to say that Paul didn’t know of a ‘historical Jesus’ in the sense of our debate; that Paul’s lack of any details about Jesus means that he didn’t know of Jesus having existed on earth, and that this is because Jesus hadn’t existed on earth but only in the imaginations of his followers. And that one doesn’t stand up, for the reasons already given at the post linked to in the previous paragraph. We know that Paul, for his own reasons, deliberately chose to avoid learning details about Jesus from people who claimed to have known him, probably so that he could continue holding on to his own theology. So, what we actually have is someone who never knew Jesus, who avoided learning anything about Jesus, who was interested in Jesus the magical sin-eraser and not Jesus the person, and who, moreover, isn’t even trying to write biography; he’s writing theological polemics addressing particular issues for his readers. And, given that context, there is nothing in the least surprising about the fact that Paul doesn’t give us any biographical details about Jesus. Price keeps trying to paint this as some kind of inexplicable mystery that needs a mythical Jesus theory to explain it, but, in fact, it’s explained perfectly well by what Paul’s own writings tell us about him and his purpose.

I think Price could have got a lot further with trying to explain away ‘born of a woman’ (and most of the other phrases) if he’d pointed out that Paul was going by what he believed he’d learned about Jesus by revelation in preference to anything he actually did learn about Jesus from Jesus’s previous followers, and that this makes Paul’s views unreliable. But, of course, Price had reason not to want to look too closely at how unreliable Paul is; that would have meant blowing a hole in his own arguments.

‘Deciphering The Gospels Proves Jesus Never Existed’ review: Chapter 9, Part 2

‘Deciphering the Gospels’, by R. G. Price, argues the case for Jesus mythicism, which is the view that Jesus never existed on earth in any real form but was an entirely mythical figure in the same way as Hercules or Dionysus. (The author is not the same person as Robert Price, also a Jesus mythicist author.) I’m an atheist who holds the opposing (and mainstream) view that Jesus was originally a human being of the 1st century about whom a later mythology grew up. I’m therefore reviewing Price’s book to discuss his arguments and my reasons for disagreeing.

The first post in this book review is here. All subsequent posts will be linked at the end of that post as they go up.

Chapter 9: Finding Jesus In Paul’s Letters

Price spends the majority of this chapter arguing that Paul didn’t believe in an earthly Jesus:

[I]n the letters of Paul, what we have are dozens upon dozens of statements, and overarching themes, that support the view that Paul not only had no knowledge of a Jesus person, but that Paul conceived of Jesus as an eternal heavenly being.

I’m not seeing why this belief would be incompatible with a belief that Jesus existed on earth as a human. After all, that’s precisely the combination of beliefs Christianity has held from an early stage; that Jesus was an eternal heavenly being who took on human form and was born and lived on earth. So the question is not so much whether Paul thought Jesus was an eternal heavenly being, but whether or not he believed Jesus also came down to earth in some form to live a human life there. With that in mind, I’ll discuss Price’s points.

A few things to bear in mind during this:

  1. As per the discussion in the last post, we can conclude from the Galatians passage (as well as from Paul’s letters as a whole) that Paul wasn’t interested in Jesus the person. Paul was interested in Jesus the magical sin-eraser. Hence, the things he says about Jesus aren’t focused on Jesus’s life, but on the theology Paul has constructed around him.
  2. Paul was writing in a different language, for a different culture. That means that at least some of the initial assumptions we might make about what our translated versions of his letters mean or what we might expect him to say in a particular situation are not necessarily going to be valid.
  3. We have no record of any of Paul’s speeches or discussions to the churches to whom he was writing, and only an incomplete record of his letters. It’s therefore important not to treat the Pauline letters we still have today as though they were meant to be a complete account of his beliefs and theology.

With all this in mind, here are the arguments Price raises:

Paul’s use of scripture to describe Jesus

There are several places where Paul refers to a line from Jewish scripture to make a point about Jesus or about Paul’s theology. Price finds this strange:

If Jesus had just been here, then why is Paul talking about old scriptures instead of Jesus Christ, who would have just recently been on earth? […] Paul is saying that ancient mysteries are being revealed and made known through prophetic writings, but why wouldn’t he be saying that these things were made known by Jesus himself?

Paul was writing for people in a society who had great respect for tradition, which meant that ancient prophetic texts would have commanded significantly more respect from the elite than what some Johnny-come-lately peasant had to say, even if the peasant was supposedly claiming to be a divine being. (There’s an interesting analysis by GakuseiDon somewhere online with regard to this, looking at Christian writings from around the 2nd century or thereabouts, showing that even Christians whom we know to have believed in an earthly Jesus still put much more emphasis on prophetic Jewish scriptures than on Jesus’s own sayings and actions when they were writing for pagan communities.)

But this does bring us to another point about Paul; that he doesn’t show much interest in Jesus’s teachings. This is another point on which Price comments:

Paul doesn’t cite Jesus

In addition to all this, with all of Paul’s discussion of the law in Galatians 3, he never once says, “Jesus said …” or “Jesus made it known that …” or “Jesus abolished the law …” Paul goes into theological discussions based on the scriptures about law and faith and covenants, developing his own explanation for why the law had been abolished. This is one of many examples where we would expect Paul to have used the teachings of Jesus to make his point if there had been a Jesus who had teachings to cite.

It’s ironic that Price chooses this specific example, because it’s highly debatable whether Jesus’s teachings on this point actually did support Paul. Of course, this has to be conjecture, because all the stories we have about Jesus’s teaching are post-Pauline and written by a church that had good reason to want to harmonise Jesus’s teaching with Paul’s. But it’s worth noting here that Jesus’s reported actions actually don’t break any of the Jewish laws as recorded later in the Talmud, and that both Acts and Galatians suggest that the apostles continued to keep to the dietary laws and attend the temple after Jesus’s death. And, given Paul’s disregard for what Jesus’s apostles had to say on the subject, it’s entirely plausible that he managed to disregard what the actual Jesus had to say.

This does, of course, still leave us with the larger question of why Paul showed so little interest in Jesus’s teachings generally; but, again, we’re up against the problem that mythicism doesn’t explain that either. Even according to the mythicist hypothesis, Paul would have believed that Jesus existed (as a heavenly being who sometimes contacted his followers with pronouncements), and could just as well have thought of a heavenly Jesus as a source of teachings to his followers as he could an earthly Jesus; if he wanted to know what Jesus would teach on a given topic, we’d expect him to show an interest in the message his followers passed down regardless of whether he believed this message had come from a heavenly Jesus or an earthly Jesus. So, this lack of interest on Paul’s part doesn’t get us any further forward in the debate.

Why does Paul show so little interest in Jesus’s teachings? Most likely for the same reason that he shows so little interest in anything else about Jesus’s life; because Jesus’s importance, for Paul, was as the uber-sacrifice that allowed Paul to feel he was free from the law, and he simply didn’t see Jesus as also having been a source of teaching.

Of course, that view seems strange to us; our natural assumption is that Jesus’s followers would be interested in both. But it’s worth remembering that we come from a culture in which the idea of Jesus as Teacher is as strongly ingrained as the idea of Jesus as sin sacrifice, and that the people who were there at the start of Christianity would not have been starting with the same cultural assumptions. Paul supposedly came from a Pharisaic background, and the Pharisaic worldview was that the details of how to interpret the Law in day-to-day life were to be worked out by humans rather than micromanaged by God. From what I understand of the Hellenistic worldview, they also did not see the gods as a source of advice on the details of how to deal with moral dilemmas or day-to-day life. And, with that background in mind, it becomes more understandable that Paul wouldn’t jump from ‘Jesus is a heavenly being sent as a sin sacrifice’ to ‘Jesus must be a good source of advice; wonder how he’d manage this problem?’ He’d do what he was used to doing, and manage issues himself.

‘In one of whom they have never heard’

In Romans 10:14 Paul asks rhetorically how anyone is meant to believe ‘in one of whom they have never heard’, and Price takes this up:

Romans 10 is a very significant passage. If Jesus had just been on earth and been ministering to the Jews and performing miracles in Galilee and Judea and drawing large crowds, as the Gospels claim, then why does Paul ask here if Jews cannot be blamed for not believing in Christ because they haven’t heard about him?

This letter was addressed to people in a city well over a thousand miles from Galilee, who would not be expected to have seen or heard Jesus regardless of whether he had recently been on earth or not. Price seems to have read this passage as referring to Jews rather than the Romans to whom it was addressed, but, while this is plausible, it doesn’t really help; there were millions of Jews in the world at the time, most of whom wouldn’t have been around the backwater province of Galilee to hear Jesus.

Paul is, in fact, touching on an extremely good question here, one of the main ones that always bothered me about Christianity; if the only route to salvation is through Jesus, what about all the people who didn’t happen to live in the right time or place to have heard of him? While Paul doesn’t actually do much to address this question, it’s still a highly valid one regardless of whether Jesus lived on earth or not, and the fact that Paul at least mentions it is hardly evidence that he didn’t believe Jesus was earthly.

Paul’s repeated use of the word ‘mystery’

Price puts great weight on this:

So Paul claims that he is telling these people a “mystery”, but why would this be a mystery if Jesus Christ had just been on earth a few years earlier to bring this very message to people, a message that he supposedly proclaimed several times according to the Gospels?

Back to translational and cultural issues: Paul and his readers wouldn’t have attached the same meaning to the word ‘mystery’. It comes from a word meaning ‘to shut the mouth,’ and hence, in this culture, it referred to secrets made known only to a select group of initiates (hence, the ‘mystery religions’ of the time). Of course, it’s debatable how applicable the word was here, when Paul was out to convert as many people as possible, but it’s easy to see how Paul would have wanted to make his followers feel like a select group with access to superior inside knowledge. So, when Paul uses the word this way, he isn’t throwing his hands in the air and admitting that there’s something here no-one can figure out; he’s trying to make his readers feel like a select group who get to be in on a secret. ‘Mystery’ here in no way precludes the existence of a real-life walking talking earthly Jesus.

The body of Christ and the desert rock

Price also brings up Paul’s references to the church as ‘the body of Christ’, as well as one line (1 Cor 10:4) referring to Jesus as the rock that the Israelites drank water from in the desert. Price’s implication seems to be that this somehow precludes Paul having believed Jesus had an actual body.

That, however, doesn’t work even with mythicist beliefs. Paul specifically stated that Jesus had had human form; he also believed Jesus had been crucified and buried, as well as being able to pick up bread and wine during his life. It is, therefore, clear that Paul believed Jesus had a body. Even if we go with the (dubious) theory that he thought this body had only existed in a heavenly dimension, Paul clearly wasn’t believing in some sort of disembodied spirit here.  It should, therefore, be extremely obvious that the lines referring to the church as Jesus’s body or comparing him to a rock are meant to be metaphorical rather than some sort of literal claim that Jesus did not have a body.

The future coming of Jesus

Price quotes the descriptions of the future coming of Jesus in 1 Thessalonians 4 and 2 Thessalonians 1, and makes much of the fact that these aren’t described as Jesus returning to earth; Price insists that this must mean that Paul (or whoever the author of the disputed 2 Thessalonians was) was saying that this would be Jesus’s first arrival on earth. That would be a lot of weight to put on word choice even without the issue of translating from another language; the word ‘coming’ can just as well be used to mean that someone is coming back to a place they’ve previously been. (For example, I find it completely normal for my mother to talk about coming to see us or to ask when I’m coming to see her, even though not only have we had repeated trips back and forth over the years but she’s still living in the house where I grew up! Clearly, when she asks when I can come to see her, she’s not meaning that word choice to imply that it’s the first time I’ve visited the house.)

On top of that, the translation issues raise another problem with Price’s argument here: atheist history blogger Tim O’Neill has pointed out that the word used in the 1 Thessalonians passage is ‘parousia’, which carries strong implications of a formal royal arrival. ‘Parousia’ thus makes complete sense as a word choice for someone who believed that Jesus had previously been on earth as a humble peasant but would be coming back as a glorious king.

 

Conclusion

Price has convinced himself that this collection of passages is a powerful indication of Jesus’s nonexistence. However, this claim doesn’t really stand up when the passages are looked at in the context of Paul’s own culture and theological focus.

Next up: The other side of the story. What passages in Paul suggest that he did believe in a Jesus who’d lived on Earth, and does Price give any alternative explanations for these?

‘Deciphering The Gospels Proves Jesus Never Existed’ review: Chapter 9, Part 1

‘Deciphering the Gospels’, by R. G. Price, argues the case for Jesus mythicism, which is the view that Jesus never existed on earth in any real form but was an entirely mythical figure in the same way as Hercules or Dionysus. (The author is not the same person as Robert Price, also a Jesus mythicist author.) I’m an atheist who holds the opposing (and mainstream) view that Jesus was originally a human being of the 1st century about whom a later mythology grew up. I’m therefore reviewing Price’s book to discuss his arguments and my reasons for disagreeing.

The first post in this book review is here. All subsequent posts will be linked at the end of that post as they go up.

 

Chapter 9: Finding Jesus In Paul’s Letters

On to the Pauline epistles. Early in the chapter, Price raises a good question:

Paul definitely thought of Jesus as real; the question is what did “real” mean to Paul?

Exactly. Arguing over whether Paul believed Jesus was ‘real’ is misleading. Everyone involved clearly believed Jesus was real, but was this ‘real’ in the sense that people believed that angels or the Roman pantheon were real? A clearer question for the mythical/historical Jesus debate is whether Paul believed Jesus had lived on earth.

However, there’s another important question that Price hasn’t addressed; how reliable is Paul’s opinion on the subject? Because there’s a big problem with that straight out of the gate, which we should address before we look at anything else about Paul’s writing. That is therefore what I will look at in this post.

The key passage for looking at Paul’s knowledge of the subject is in Galatians 1. I’ve highlighted particular lines:

10 Am I now seeking human approval, or God’s approval? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still pleasing people, I would not be a servant of Christ.11 For I want you to know, brothers and sisters,[b] that the gospel that was proclaimed by me is not of human origin; 12 for I did not receive it from a human source, nor was I taught it, but I received it through a revelation of Jesus Christ.

[…]when God, who had set me apart before I was born and called me through his grace, was pleased 16 to reveal his Son to me, so that I might proclaim him among the Gentiles, I did not confer with any human being, 17 nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were already apostles before me, but I went away at once into Arabia, and afterwards I returned to Damascus.

18 Then after three years I did go up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas and stayed with him for fifteen days; 19 but I did not see any other apostle except James the Lord’s brother. 20 In what I am writing to you, before God, I do not lie!

[Paul then goes on to say that it was another fourteen years before he went back to visit the Jerusalem church again.]

This is a vital passage which mythicists typically misinterpret completely. Price is no exception to this. Here’s what he has to say about this passage:

If Jesus had just been here, then the gospel from the mouth of Jesus should have been seen as the most legitimate and authoritative, yet Paul presents his message as more authoritative because it hasn’t come from anyone else. How could Paul’s message from “revelation” compete with Peter’s message from the mouth of Jesus? […] If James and John and Peter were real associates of Jesus, who had walked hand in hand with him, had heard his teachings straight from his mouth, had been with him at the “last supper” and taken the Eucharist with Jesus himself, and had witnessed his death and resurrection themselves, then how on earth could Paul’s claim that his knowledge of Jesus via “revelation” be superior to the knowledge of James, John, and Peter? […] That Paul would even attempt to make such a claim only makes sense if Paul viewed revelation as the most direct form of knowledge that one could have about Jesus, and Paul would only believe that revelation was the most direct form of knowledge that one could have about Jesus if Jesus was not a real person who had just been on earth walking and talking hand in hand with James, John, Peter, and many others.

All very logical and skeptical, and all completely misinterpreting where Paul was coming from on this.

Firstly, Price has missed an obvious point; for Paul, and for his followers, ‘revelation’ would not have been in any sort of equivalent of scare quotes. As skeptics, we’re used to interpreting ‘revelation’ as ‘imagination’ and not taking it seriously, but that wouldn’t have been the case for Paul. He genuinely believed in heavenly revelation, and certainly seems to have believed that he’d had one. So, as far as Paul and his followers were concerned, he had heard Jesus’s wishes ‘straight from his mouth’; he believed that Jesus had appeared to him from heaven to speak to him. And, of course, when seen from that perspective Paul’s knowledge of Jesus certainly would have seemed authoritative to both him and others, completely regardless of whether they also believed Jesus had lived on earth. Whether or not Jesus had spoken to Peter and co. before his death, everyone concerned believed he’d spoken to Paul as well as others after his death.

Now, of course, that doesn’t explain why Paul had so little interest in what church members could tell him about Jesus; even given that Paul and others truly believed that Jesus had spoken directly to Paul, there was still plenty he could have learned from the people who already followed Jesus. What Price has overlooked, however, is that mythicism doesn’t explain that either. After all, even according to mythicist theory Paul certainly believed that other church members had had some sort of vision of Jesus similar to his own, and one clear implication of this is that he would have believed their visions might have included Jesus speaking to them and advising them, as Paul believed Jesus had done to him. If Paul wanted to get as much information as possible about Jesus from other people, then the obvious thing for him to do – whether on historicity or mythicism – was to go and learn everything he could from the other church members whom he believed had also had some kind of experience of Jesus.

But that is not, in fact, what he did. What he actually did, as per verses 17 – 18 of the above passage, was to disappear off to Arabia. It took him years to come back and contact anyone from the church. What’s more, look at the way he’s telling his readers this; he’s declaring it as a positive. He’s presenting it as evidence that he’s seeking ‘God’s approval’ rather than ‘pleasing people’.

In short, we can deduce from this that Paul did not, in fact, want to get as much information as possible about Jesus from other people. And we can see that this wasn’t a reluctant acceptance of the lack of availability of other information; it was a deliberate strategy. So, if we work from the assumption that Paul would have wanted to find out everything he could about Jesus’s life, then we’ll be starting from the wrong premise completely.

This is, of course, rather strange behaviour from Paul; if mythicism doesn’t explain it, what does? Well, obviously we’re into conjecture at this point, but here’s what we know and what it seems reasonable to deduce:

From Galatians, we see that the key difference of opinion between Paul and the other church members who’d spoken to the Galatians was over whether it was still necessary for Jews to follow the law or whether that requirement had now been obviated by Jesus’s death, which Paul believed to have been an atoning sacrifice so powerful it did the job for all time. So, clearly there was at the very least a faction of the church – apparently including Peter – who believed that the Jewish law was still binding on Jews. And, from elsewhere in Paul’s writing, we know that this issue was massively important to him. This wasn’t some abstract theological quibble for Paul; his belief that Jesus was an atoning sacrifice had given Paul freedom from a belief system that he’d found oppressive and unbearable. With this in mind, we can see how Paul might well have needed to keep believing what he believed, and that this would have given him a powerful motive to deny that other people might know more than him about Jesus’s wishes.

Seen in that light, Paul’s avoidance of the original church members makes complete sense. In their absence, he can keep focusing on the visions that tell him that he’s right about this, that he doesn’t need to listen to anyone else, that he’s heard this from the mouth of Jesus himself. He can push down pesky inconvenient thoughts about the implications of the fact that people who supposedly also personally heard from Jesus are saying something completely different. As far as Paul is concerned, Jesus has personally delivered God’s message to him directly. Therefore, anyone who thinks differently is just plain wrong. QED.

While this is always going to be speculation, it’s a plausible explanation for why he was so actively avoiding the existing church and rejecting their teachings, and it’s what I believe to have happened. If anyone else has another explanation that makes sense (i.e., not ‘Paul knew Jesus never lived on earth’, since, as I’ve pointed out above, this wouldn’t actually explain Paul’s behaviour here) then I’m quite happy to hear it.

But, either way, we can see in the above passage that Paul does make his attitude clear. He believed Jesus had personally revealed The Truth ™ to him, and he was going to go right on believing that regardless of what anyone else says. Regardless of what his motivation might have been for ignoring what Jesus’s other followers had to say about Jesus, we can see that this was what he was determined to do.

And it’s important to note the implications of this for our debate. Not only does this particular Galatians passage not help the mythicists, but it has major implications for how we interpret Paul’s writing generally. Mythicism tends to rely quite heavily on Paul, because, despite his letters being the earliest Christian writings we have, they actually contain very few details about any sort of earthly life of Jesus; mythicists have pointed triumphantly to this as indicating that Jesus must not have had an earthly life. But this passage casts things in a very different light. Paul not only never met Jesus during his lifetime, he seems to have made it a deliberate policy to avoid or minimise talking with people who did. And Paul wasn’t interested in Jesus’s life; he was interested in the atonement theology that he spun around Jesus’s death.

So the paucity of detail about Jesus in Paul’s letters doesn’t actually help the mythicism case. ‘Man who never met Jesus and didn’t want to hear about Jesus’s life seems to know almost nothing about Jesus’s life’ is not actually the kind of mystery that requires a mythicism theory to solve it.

On the flip side, however, this also limits the help that Paul’s letters can give to the historicists. There are, despite what Price thinks, multiple points in Paul’s letters that actively point towards Paul having believed that Jesus lived a human-type life on earth; while Paul had almost no interest in the details of that life (because it wasn’t important for his own theology), he clearly believed it had happened. In a later post, I’ll be explaining why it’s clear that Paul did believe Jesus had lived on earth. But that doesn’t help us much either, because, for all we know, that belief might also be a product of Paul’s ‘visions’ and theological beliefs about Jesus. (There is an important exception, and I’ll get to that; but most of what Paul has to say on the subject might for all we know have been down to his imagination rather than any actual knowledge he had of an earthly Jesus. I doubt that was the case, but it’s fair to note that the unreliability of Paul as evidence cuts both ways.)

What this means is that my next couple of posts on the subject are going to be dealing with points that are verging on moot. My next post is going to discuss the flaws in Price’s reasons for concluding that Paul didn’t believe in an earthly Jesus, and the one after that will be listing the reasons why I concluded that Paul did believe in an earthly Jesus. But let’s bear in mind throughout that neither is particularly helpful in clarifying the debate, since, whatever Paul believed on the subject, it was ultimately informed by his ‘visions’ and theology rather than by any actual investigation of the evidence.