2023-10-14

How a Biblical Tale Could have Emerged from a Greek Myth

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by Neil Godfrey

Derek Lambert of the MythVision program dedicated a program to something he found on “yours truly” blog outlining aspects of Philippe Wajdenbaum’s case for linking Abraham’s (near) sacrifice of Isaac with the Greek myth of Phrixus:

Standard definitions

Myths are prose narratives which, in the society in which they are told, are considered to be truthful accounts of what happened in the remote past. They are accepted on faith; they are taught to be believed; and they can be cited as authority in answer to ignorance, doubt, or disbelief. Myths are the embodiment of dogma; they are usually sacred; and they are often associated with theology and ritual. Their main characters are not usually human beings, but they often have human attributes; they are animals, deities, or culture heroes, whose actions are set in an earlier world, when the earth was different from what it is today, or in another world such as the sky or underworld. . . .

Legends are prose narratives which, like myths, are regarded as true by the narrator and his audience, but they are set in a period considered less remote, when the world was much as it is today. Legends are more often secular than sacred, and their principal characters are human. They tell of migrations, wars and victories, deeds of past heroes, chiefs, and kings, and succession in ruling dynasties. In this they are often the counterpart in verbal tradition of written history . . .

Folktales are prose narratives which are regarded as fiction. They are not considered as dogma or history, they may or may not have happened, and they are not to be taken seriously. . . .

Bascom, William. “The Forms of Folklore: Prose Narratives.” The Journal of American Folklore 78, no. 307 (January 1965): 3. https://doi.org/10.2307/538099. p.4

At the time I wrote those blog posts I was struggling to understand how to apply a Lévi-Straussian structural analysis to the myths related to Phrixus as well as to the Genesis narrative of Abraham and Isaac, and I still am. I feel somewhat vindicated in my failure, though, by an Alan Dundes article —

  • Dundes, Alan. “Binary Opposition in Myth: The Propp/Lévi-Strauss Debate in Retrospect.” Western Folklore 56, no. 1 (1997): 39–50. https://doi.org/10.2307/1500385.

— which notes that Lévi-Strauss fails to acknowledge the “standard genre definitions of myth, folktale and legend”. This failure may be more than a technical one since Lévi-Strauss insists that all variants or adaptations of a myth are essentially the “same myth” — not “legend” or “folklore”, given that myths (in his understanding) are told in a different linguistic/psychological registers from other kinds of narratives. So, if we follow Claude Lévi-Strauss’s reasoning, how could a biblical drama with more in common with a folktale or a legend be an adaptation of a myth?

Further, Levi-Strauss explained variants of myths among different tribes in South America as the product of different social customs and structures. One example:

Finally, we can note one striking inversion: in [Myth 7], the eggs were changed into stones; in [Myth 12], a stone is changed into an egg. The structure of the Sherente myth (M12), therefore, contrasts with that of the other versions — a fact that is perhaps to be explained in part by the social structure of the Sherente which, as we have seen, differs sharply from that of the other Ge tribes. (The Raw and the Cooked, p. 77)

In 2011 I failed to identify that kind of explanation for the differences between the Greek myth of Phrixus and the Genesis “Akedah” (the binding of Isaac). Since then, I have read Russell Gmirkin’s studies of the possible influence of Plato’s thought in his Laws on the Pentateuch. Wajdenbaum had addressed this notion earlier but Gmirkin’s work seemed (to me, at least) to strengthen that likelihood. I have now given up attempting a Lévi-Straussian explanation for the biblical account and have fallen back on a “Platonic” adaptation of the Phrixus myth.

If Lévi-Straussian approaches cannot explain how this biblical episode emerged out of a Greek myth, can an interest in applying Plato’s ideals succeed?

In the following I use the word “myth” in Plato’s simpler sense of a mere fabrication.

–o0o–

If the idea that Plato’s thoughts underlie much of the Pentateuch seems preposterous to you, I invite you to have a look through the earlier discussions relating to this question:

In nuce, the starting point for this post is the hypothesis that early in the Hellenistic era (third century B.C.E.), the priestly and scribal litterati of Samaria and Judea, possibly in close working relationship with the resources in Egypt’s Great Library of Alexandria, created the “historical” narratives that were to become the foundational literature of a new ethnic and cultural identity. The raw materials that these elites reshaped were the stories they had inherited from their home regions (Canaan, Syria, the Levant) along with new Greek epic, poetry, drama, historiography and philosophical writings. Guided by the ideals they imbibed from Plato, they aimed to construct new “foundation myths” that surpassed the ethics of their Greek overlords and thus asserted the superiority of their regional Yahwism over Hellenism. If Hellenistic culture can be defined as a blending of Greek and Asian ideas and expressions, the Pentateuch became a Hellenistic document par excellence — ironically, given that it was the ideological document that underlay subsequent Judean resistance against the Hellenistic rule of the Seleucids. Think of the regular experience of the colonized embracing the culture of their conquerors and using it against them.

My aim here is to try to explain how the Greek myth of Phrixus could have been transformed into the biblical narrative about the binding of Isaac.

–o0o–

As is well-known, Plato had no time for the follies of deities and humans in the Greek myths.  Gods should always be presented as epitomes of the highest morality and heroes as ideal exemplars of god-fearing thought and behaviour. Plato further argued the ideal target audiences of such myths should be a heterogenous population settled from various regions into a new collective. (Should we note in this context the diverse “records” of the twelve tribes of Israel hailing from diverse places — Mesopotomia, Egypt, Canaan?) The myth should assure a people that their ancestral origins were both divinely guided and true. Although the first generation would naturally resist such notions the succeeding generation would be less prone to resist the new teaching.

Plato wrote that ideal laws and the mythical tales in which they were embedded should inculcate the most honourable fear of all, the fear of God, or utmost reverence.

Now let’s refresh our memories of the highlights of the myth of Phrixus and reflect on the possibility of their “Platonic foils”.

1. The king of Boeotia, Athamas, married a cloud goddess with whom he fathered twins: Phrixus and Helle. That cloud goddess, whose name was Nephele, was in fact a special creation by Zeus to look exactly like his wife Hera so she could deceive “a drunken, degenerate king” (Ixion) to goad him into punishment for behaving inappropriately towards Hera. That was before she married Athamas.

2. Athamas, frustrated with his superior wife’s haughtiness, rejected her and married instead the mortal Ino.

Immediately we can sense Plato’s displeasure. How much more noble to have a hero in a stable marriage, if not to a goddess at least to a woman who even in her old age was the desire of kings! Even better if her name can sound like “Princess”. Certainly not a “hero” married to a cloud that was created for the purpose of deception!

3. The second wife of Athamas (Ino) rejected her stepchildren so plotted to have them removed so that her own child could inherit the kingdom. The first step in her plan was to secretly parch the seed that was necessary to feed his people. Athamas was at his wits end not knowing how to overcome the “natural” calamity.

We can see core motifs here that may have been adapted into the Genesis narrative: Sarah rejecting the first born of Abram whose mother had been the slave (not a goddess), and forcing its departure from her household. Of course there is also the theme of barrenness transplanted from the ground to the persons of Sarah and Abram. In this context it is of interest to note that the earlier Hittite myth from which the Greek tale appears to have been borrowed spoke of barren land as well as animals failing to reproduce and even humans unable to have children.

Therefore barley and wheat no longer ripen. Cattle, sheep, and humans no longer become pregnant. And those already pregnant cannot give birth. (Hittite Myths, p. 15)

But in the biblical account the barrenness is not part of a wicked human plot (or in the Hittite myth the consequence of a god deserting his responsibilities in a childish pique) but appears as a condition that God is using to prove that the child to be born is not a natural offspring but a genuine divine gift. That’s another detail that a pure “Platonic” mind would find most fitting.

4. Athamas sought the advice of the god Apollo but Ino bribed his messengers to lie and report to the king that the god wanted him to sacrifice his first born son, Phrixus.

A human sacrifice prompted by a devious lie? Most emphatically utterly inconceivable in Plato’s world!

By now one might wonder why a “biblical” author might select such an unpromising myth as raw material to begin with. The answer to that question was set out in my earlier post, Greek Myths Related to Tales of Abraham, Isaac, Moses and the Promised Land. As in the larger biblical narrative, the episode of a would-be human sacrifice called off by last-minute divine intervention and the sudden introduction of a sheep (“out of nowhere”) was a prelude to a grander narrative of national inheritance and deliverance.

But let’s continue.

As noted above, Plato believed that an ideal community needed to value above all the fear of God. Abram, renamed Abraham, is a perfect demonstration of such a fear and reverence by his willingness to sacrifice his son in response to the divine command. Different versions of the Phrixus myth paint Athamas in a contrary light. In one early version of the myth he is driven mad and it is in that mental state that he carries out the sacrifice.

Fear of God is only commendable, of course, if God himself is perfect. Hence in the story world of the Bible God was in his perfection only testing the perfection of Abraham while simultaneously in his perfection keeping his promise that Isaac would be Abraham’s heir and progenitor of vast multitudes and kings. A modern psychotherapist might have a different evaluation of both God’s and Abraham’s characters but we have to adhere to the “story as told”.

5. Either Zeus or Nephele sent a golden winged ram to rescue Phrixus at the last moment by carrying him away.

In Genesis we read instead of a rational dialogue between Abraham and the divine agent and the “natural” appearance of a ram caught in a thicket nearby to be sacrificed as a substitute. We are removed here from the “far distant other world” of flying and talking golden sheep. On the contrary, we are in the “present world” and in “narrative historical time” that will be linked by named generations to the founding of the nation of Israel. Plato insisted that the myth had to be historically believable.

6. Phrixus sacrificed the ram as a thanksgiving offering for his rescue and hung its golden fleece on a tree. From there it was known as a token to bestow abundantly prosperous kingship to its possessor.

In the earlier Hittite versions what was hung in the tree branch was sheepskin containing tokens of natural abundance and prosperity.

Before Telipinu [son of the Storm God whose disappearance and return were marked by barrenness and plenty respectively] there stands an eyan-tree (or pole). From the cyan is suspended a hunting bag (made from the skin) of a sheep. In (the bag) lies Sheep Fat. In it lie (symbols of) Animal Fecundity and Wine. In it lie (symbols of) Cattle and Sheep. In it lie Longevity and Progeny. (Hittite Myths, p. 18)

The sheep caught in the thicket in the Abraham and Isaac tale appears when the God announces his great promise to Abraham and his son:

Abraham looked up and there in a thicket he saw a ram caught by its horns. He went over and took the ram and sacrificed it as a burnt offering instead of his son. So Abraham called that place The Lord Will Provide. . . . The angel of the Lord called to Abraham from heaven a second time and said, “I swear by myself, declares the Lord, that because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son, I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore. Your descendants will take possession of the cities of their enemies, and through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed . . . (Genesis 22:13-18)

One other detail I bypassed here is the death of Phrixus’s sibling, Helle, who was said to have also been carried away by the flying sheep only to fall off its back and drown in the sea below (the Hellespont). If there is any relevance here it may be tied to the rejection of the other son of Abraham, Ishmael. But that is only an incidental and a most tentative observation. The theme of deities choosing a younger progeny to be an heir over an older one was known in Canaanite mythology long before biblical times.

It may be that the original form of the myth related to the literal sacrifice of a king — or of a child sacrifice by the king — who was deemed to be losing his power to sustain the abundance of the natural order. If so, that does not appear to be related to the Genesis episode — unless the Judean and Samaritan authors did have genuine historical memories of such a human sacrifice.

Leaving that possibility aside, I suggest that the above comparative interpretation of the Biblical mini-saga yields for us an explanation for how it might have been crafted from a Greek myth by a scribe guided by Plato’s ideals.

 


Bascom, William. “The Forms of Folklore: Prose Narratives.” The Journal of American Folklore 78, no. 307 (January 1965): 3. https://doi.org/10.2307/538099

Dundes, Alan. “Binary Opposition in Myth: The Propp/Lévi-Strauss Debate in Retrospect.” Western Folklore 56, no. 1 (1997): 39–50. https://doi.org/10.2307/1500385.

Hoffner, Harry A., and Gary M. Beckman, eds. Hittite Myths. 2nd ed. Writings from the Ancient World, no 2. Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press, 1998.

Levi-Strauss, Claude. The Raw and the Cooked. Translated by John Weightman and Doreen Weightman. New York: Harper & Row, 1969.



2023-10-11

Palestine, Jerusalem — Beautiful in 1896

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by Neil Godfrey

I posted this clip ten years ago. How things were, how things could be….

Surely it must provoke some serious thought….

From Gilad Atzmon.


2023-10-10

Unspeakable…

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

by Neil Godfrey

Is there anything at all that can be said? I can only feel — appropriate words won’t come. I gather news updates from a range of sources and have been distressingly learning for years now about the increasing attacks by Israelis on Palestinians, including the killing of women and children, with the clear winks from far right government members (even calling for a Palestinian town to be “wiped out“) and with the protection and sometimes outright facilitation of Israeli security forces (both the IDF and the police) — all this and not one word of protest from those national leaders who are now roused to speak up and cry out for a total vindication of Israel’s “right to defend itself” against the atrocities of Hamas — with that condemnation morphing all to often into an implicit condemnation of all Palestinians. The world cries out “War Crime” when a Russian missile destroys a power plant in Ukraine. But when Israel blocks all food and power from entering the overcrowded home of 2 to 3 million people….

As the correspondent Jonathan Cooke wrote:

The current outpouring of sympathy for Israel should make anyone with half a heart retch.

Not because it is not awful that Israeli civilians are dying and suffering in such large numbers. But because Palestinian civilians in Gaza have faced repeated rampages from Israel decade after decade, producing far more suffering, but have never elicited a fraction of the concern currently being expressed by western politicians or publics.

The West’s hypocrisy over Palestinian fighters killing and wounding hundreds of Israelis and holding dozens more hostage in communities surrounding and inside besieged Gaza is stark indeed.

This is the first time Palestinians, caged in the coastal enclave, have managed to inflict a significant strike against Israel vaguely comparable to the savagery Palestinians in Gaza have faced repeatedly since they were entombed in a cage in 2007, when Israel began its blockade by land, sea and air.

. . . .

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has accused Hamas, which nominally runs the open-air prison of Gaza, of starting “a cruel and evil war”. But the truth is that the Palestinians have “started” nothing. They have managed, after so much struggle, to find a way to hurt their tormentor.

Inevitably for the Palestinians, as Netanyahu also observed, “the price will be heavy” – especially for civilians. Israel will inflict on the prisoners the severest punishment for their impudence.

Watch how little sympathy and concern there will be from the West for the many Palestinian men, women and children who are killed once again by Israel. Their immense suffering will be obscured, and justified, by the term “Israeli retaliation”.

. . . .

No one really cared while Gaza’s Palestinans were subjected to a blockade imposed by Israel that denied them the essentials of life. The few dozen Israelis being held hostage by Hamas fighters pale in comparison with the two million Palestinians held hostage by Israel in an open-air prison for nearly two decades.

No one really cared when it emerged that Gaza’s Palestinians had been put on a “starvation diet” by Israel – only limited food was allowed in, calculated to keep the population barely fed.

No one really cared when Israel bombed the coastal enclave every few years, killing many hundreds of Palestinian civilians each time. Israel simply called it “mowing the lawn”. The destruction of vast areas of Gaza, what Israeli generals boasted of as returning the enclave to the Stone Age, was formalised as a military strategy known as the “Dahiya doctrine“.

No one really cared when Israeli snipers targeted nurses, youngsters and people in wheelchairs who came out to protest against their imprisonment by Israel. Many thousands were left as amputees after those snipers received orders to shoot the protesters indiscriminately in the legs or ankles.

Western concern at the deaths of Israeli civilians at the hands of Palestinian fighters is hard to stomach. Have not many hundreds of Palestinian children died over the past 15 years in Israel’s repeated bombing campaigns on Gaza? Did their lives not count as much as Israeli lives – and if not, why not?

After so much indifference for so long, it is difficult to hear the sudden horror from Western governments and media because Palestinians have finally found a way – mirroring Israel’s inhumane, decades-long policy – to fight back effectively.

This moment rips off the mask and lays bare the undisguised racism that masquerades as moral concern in western capitals.

. . . .

I listened to an American diplomat try to explain that the reason there is no peace between Israel and the Palestinians is because Hamas refuses to recognize Israel’s right to exist. No-one said that the United States’ refusal to recognize the legitimacy of the mainland Chinese government from 1949 to 1972 made it impossible for the two countries to live in the same world together. Hamas has called for a two-state solution recognizing the 1967 borders — an implicit acknowledgement that a regime they consider illegitimate and illegal and immoral will exist alongside a Palestinian state. Israel has persistently thumbed its nose at international law by expanding its own settlements in the only place a Palestinian state could exist, — and effectively winking at their settler pogroms against Palestinian villages.

An Israeli military spokesperson said the “breakout” by Hamas from Gaza proved that Hamas were animals who could never be satisfied. After all, he “explained”, Israel “unilaterally” withdrew its forces totally from Gaza leaving Gaza entirely to the Palestinians; “What more could Israel do in giving the Palestinians all they asked for!” — Like leaving caged prisoners to their own devices within their barbed wire and spike defended walls on their subsistence diet and patchy power supply.

It’s all too sickening. But it seemed so wrong to post about intellectual fancies like biblical studies without acknowledging something infinitely more important right now.

I have not heard first hand or face to face from Palestinians themselves or from anyone who has visited the West Bank and Gaza recently so I rely on media reports (only partly on the mainstream media, though that has a place, too) and published research and testimonies to keep abreast of what is happening. A while back, during the time of the wave of suicide bombings, I learned that many ordinary Palestinians despised Hamas for their cold use of youngsters to blow themselves up. Since then, there have been changes within Hamas and they were democratically elected in Gaza (to much of the world’s horror) — they were the only party that most Palestinians trusted to actually deliver needed humanitarian services. I don’t know what most Palestinians think of the recent Hamas attacks but I would not be surprised if a good many feel despair and dismay. But it doesn’t matter now. The fire has started. If only individuals like us could do a little more to try to raise awareness of the hypocrisy and racism among our national leaders that is giving comfort to the governing powers of Israel as they ignore the rules of humanity and justice. Except when their own prisoners violate them to their own hurt.

 

 

 


2023-10-01

Continuing Dialog with ChatGPT — historical methods

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by Neil Godfrey

Continuing from https://vridar.org/2023/10/01/a-dialog-with-chatgpt-on-christian-origins/

Me: What, if anything, changes, if we introduce the need for independent corroboration?

ChatGPT:

The requirement for independent corroboration significantly tightens the standards for historical verification. If historians strictly demand independent sources to corroborate each event or claim, it can add more confidence to their conclusions but also presents challenges:

    1. Higher Confidence in Established Facts: When multiple, independent sources attest to a particular event, person, or phenomenon, the historical confidence in that event’s actual occurrence is strengthened. This is why events in ancient history that are documented by different and independent historians are often considered more reliable.
    2. Loss of Potentially Authentic Material: Many historical events, especially from antiquity, may not have multiple independent attestations. If we strictly require independent corroboration, we risk dismissing potentially genuine historical events or facts simply because they lack external confirmation.
    3. Redefining “Independence”: Determining the independence of sources can be complex. For instance, if two texts share material, but it’s unclear whether one borrowed from the other or both drew from a common earlier source, how “independent” are they? Historians must grapple with these nuances.
    4. Increased Reliance on Archaeology and Non-textual Evidence: If textual sources lack independent corroboration, historians might turn more to archaeological evidence or other non-textual forms of evidence. For instance, an event mentioned in a single ancient text might gain credibility if there’s archaeological evidence that aligns with the account.
    5. Challenges for Religious or Mythical Texts: Texts that describe religious events, miracles, or supernatural occurrences often lack independent corroboration outside of their religious tradition. Requiring external validation could make it nearly impossible to establish many religious narratives’ historical cores, leading to more skepticism about religious figures and events.
    6. Limited Application in Some Historical Contexts: In certain periods or places, there might be only one primary source of information. For instance, certain ancient civilizations or periods in the Middle Ages might have limited extant records. Requiring independent corroboration might hinder the study of these times and places.
    7. Potential for Bias in Surviving Records: The sources that have survived time might reflect particular viewpoints or biases (e.g., those of the ruling class, victors in conflicts, or dominant cultural or religious groups). If these are the only sources available for corroboration, the resulting historical narrative might be skewed.

In the context of historical Jesus research, insisting on independent corroboration would mean relying heavily on non-Christian sources (like the writings of Tacitus, Josephus, or Pliny the Younger) or different Christian traditions that developed independently. However, these sources are limited in number and detail, which would constrain the scope of reliable historical assertions about Jesus.

In summary, while independent corroboration is a valuable standard in historical research, it’s not always feasible and comes with its own set of challenges. Historians often have to balance the desire for multiple attestations with the realities of available evidence.

–0–

Me: What are some of the “potentially genuine historical events or facts” that would be “at risk” if we insisted on independent corroboration?

ChatGPT:

If historians insisted strictly on independent corroboration, many events or details from antiquity (and even more recent history) might be cast into doubt or overlooked. Here are some examples from various time periods and contexts:

    1. Socrates’ Teachings: Much of what we know about the Athenian philosopher Socrates comes from the writings of his student, Plato, and to a lesser extent, Xenophon. There aren’t many independent sources that corroborate specific dialogues or teachings attributed to Socrates.
    2. Julius Caesar’s Commentaries: Caesar wrote commentaries on the Gallic Wars, which provide detailed accounts of his campaigns. While there are other references to Caesar’s actions in Gaul, the specific details of battles, strategies, and interactions are primarily from Caesar himself.
    3. Details from the Chinese Historian Sima Qian: The Records of the Grand Historian, written by Sima Qian in the early Han Dynasty, is one of our primary sources for many events and figures in ancient China. While there are other sources and records, many specific stories and details come primarily from Sima Qian.
    4. Events Described in Epics: The events described in epic poems like the “Epic of Gilgamesh” or the “Mahabharata” don’t have comprehensive independent corroboration. While these are understood to be mythological or legendary to some extent, any potential historical kernels would be hard to verify without external sources.
    5. Autobiographical Writings: Any autobiographical account, from Augustine’s “Confessions” to more recent memoirs, would lack independent corroboration for many personal experiences and reflections.
    6. Specific Events in Jesus’ Life: While there are some references to Jesus in non-Christian sources like Tacitus or Josephus, many specific events, parables, or teachings from the Gospels would lack independent corroboration.
    7. Private Interactions of Historical Figures: Many private conversations, interactions, or letters between historical figures, unless they were documented by multiple independent observers, would fall under suspicion.
    8. Events in Isolated Communities: Historical events that occurred in isolated or remote communities, which might have been documented by a single chronicler or observer, would be hard to corroborate independently.
    9. Reports from Explorers: Many explorers were the first from their culture or country to visit specific lands or peoples. Their accounts, like those of Marco Polo or Ibn Battuta, while valuable, often lack independent corroboration for many details.
    10. Scientific Discoveries and Observations: Many groundbreaking scientific observations, from Galileo’s astronomical findings to Darwin’s notes on the Galápagos finches, were initially based on individual observation without immediate independent corroboration.

This list underscores a fundamental challenge in historical research: the tension between the desire for multiple, independent attestations and the recognition that many events or details are recorded by single sources. Historians often have to weigh the reliability of these sources, considering their proximity to the events they describe, their potential biases, the consistency of their accounts, and other factors.

–0–

Me: Can you give some examples of “private interactions of historical figures” that you mentioned?

ChatGPT:

Certainly. There are many instances in history where our knowledge of private interactions between historical figures comes from limited sources, often the writings of one of the participants or from later accounts that may have been based on personal testimonies. Here are some examples:

    1. Martin Luther and the Diet of Worms: While we have a general account of Martin Luther’s defense at the Diet of Worms in 1521, the exact details, including his famous declaration “Here I stand,” are based on later recollections and not on immediate documentation.
    2. Abraham Lincoln’s Private Conversations: Various accounts of Lincoln’s views, especially those pertaining to slavery and his personal beliefs, come from personal memoirs or letters of those who interacted with him privately, such as his law partner William Herndon.
    3. The Meetings of Churchill, Roosevelt, and Stalin: While there were official minutes and agreements from the World War II conferences involving these leaders, many of the private discussions and side agreements were later recounted by the leaders themselves or close aides.
    4. Thomas Jefferson and John Adams: Much of what we know about the personal relationship between these two Founding Fathers, especially in their later years, comes from their extensive correspondence. While these letters provide insight into their views and relationship, they are, of course, just one side of many interactions.
    5. Conversations of Queen Elizabeth I: There are many accounts of private conversations that Queen Elizabeth I had with her courtiers, suitors, and advisors. However, the exact details often come from the recollections of those individuals or from later accounts.
    6. Napoleon’s Exile on Saint Helena: Many details of Napoleon’s life and thoughts during his exile come from the writings of those who accompanied him, such as his valet Louis Marchand or the Grand Marshal of the Palace, Henri-Gatien Bertrand.
    7. The Relationship between Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung: While both Freud and Jung wrote extensively, much of what we know about their personal interactions, disagreements, and eventual split comes from their letters and later recollections.
    8. Gandhi’s Personal Interactions: Mahatma Gandhi’s interactions with close associates, family members, and political figures were often documented in letters or remembered in memoirs, giving us insights into his personal beliefs and strategies.
    9. Marilyn Monroe’s Conversations: Many details about Monroe’s personal life, including her interactions with other celebrities, politicians, and acquaintances, come from personal testimonies and interviews, which often lack independent corroboration.
    10. Meetings of the Bloomsbury Group: This influential group of writers, intellectuals, and artists in the early 20th century had many private interactions and discussions. Much of what we know about these comes from personal letters, diaries, and later recollections.

In many of these cases, while the broad outlines of events or relationships are well-documented, the specific details, nuances, or exact words spoken in private interactions are harder to verify with certainty. Historians often rely on the credibility of the sources, the consistency of accounts, and the context in which the interactions occurred to gauge their reliability.

–0–

Me: When you gave “specific events in Jesus’ life” as an example of potentially historical material being “at risK, are you not also falling into the circular reasoning trap?

ChatGPT:

You’re right to point out the potential pitfall. My intention was to provide an illustrative example, but it’s crucial to unpack the underlying assumptions.

When discussing the events in Jesus’ life as found in the Gospels and other Christian writings, there’s an inherent presumption that some of these events have a basis in historical reality. However, without independent corroboration, establishing which events are historically genuine becomes challenging.

If we were to strictly demand independent corroboration for all events, then many specific episodes in Jesus’ life, as they’re recorded solely within Christian texts, would indeed be at risk of being deemed historically uncertain. However, the phrase “potentially genuine historical events or facts” suggests that there’s an underlying possibility of their historicity, even if not yet confirmed.

The circularity would arise if we were to assert that these events are genuine because they are recorded in the sources, without a robust external basis for that claim. It’s always vital in historical discussions to remain aware of, and transparent about, the assumptions and methodologies underlying any conclusions.

Thank you for drawing attention to this. It’s essential to approach historical research, especially in areas as complex and debated as the life of Jesus, with methodological rigor and critical awareness.

–0–

Me: What “robust external basis” can be applied to any particular event or saying in the life of Jesus?

ChatGPT:

The “robust external basis” for any particular event or saying in the life of Jesus would ideally come from sources outside the Christian scriptures, archaeological evidence, or other non-textual attestations that can corroborate or provide context for the New Testament accounts. Here’s what that might look like:

    1. Non-Christian Written Sources: These are references to Jesus or early Christians by writers who weren’t followers of Jesus. Examples include:
      • Tacitus: The Roman historian Tacitus, writing around AD 115, mentions the execution of Jesus under Pontius Pilate and the subsequent spread of Christianity in Rome.
      • Josephus: The Jewish historian Josephus, in his “Antiquities of the Jews” (written around AD 93-94), contains a controversial passage known as the “Testimonium Flavianum” that references Jesus. While the authenticity of parts of this passage is debated, many scholars believe it has a historical core that confirms Jesus’ existence and crucifixion.
      • Pliny the Younger: In his letters to Emperor Trajan around AD 112, Pliny mentions Christians, their worship of Christ, and some of their practices.
    2. Archaeological Evidence: While direct archaeological evidence specifically corroborating New Testament events is rare, archaeology can provide context. For example:
      • Excavations in Nazareth, Capernaum, and other places mentioned in the Gospels can provide insights into the socio-economic and cultural backdrop of Jesus’ ministry.
      • The discovery of the ossuary (bone box) with the inscription “James, son of Joseph, brother of Jesus” brought discussions, though its authenticity is debated.
      • The Pilate Stone, discovered in Caesarea Maritima, confirms Pontius Pilate’s historical existence and his role as a prefect of Judaea.
    3. Comparative Religious and Cultural Studies: By examining the religious, philosophical, and cultural milieu of the 1st century, scholars can determine how unique or common certain sayings or actions of Jesus were in that context.
    4. Internal Textual Analysis: Though not “external,” comparing independent traditions within the New Testament can sometimes provide clues. For instance, if a saying of Jesus appears in both the Gospel of Mark and the hypothetical source Q (reconstructed from material common to Matthew and Luke but absent in Mark), it suggests that the tradition might be earlier than any of these texts.
    5. Early Christian Writings: Early non-canonical Christian writings, such as the Didache, the Gospel of Thomas, or the letters of early Church fathers, can sometimes provide complementary views or echoes of Jesus’ sayings or events in his life.

While these sources and methods can provide context, background, or even corroboration for certain broad aspects of the Jesus story (e.g., his existence, crucifixion, the rise of the early Christian movement), many specific events or sayings remain hard to externally corroborate. Most scholars rely on a combination of these methods, along with critical textual analysis of the New Testament itself, to build a plausible historical portrait of Jesus.

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Me: But a plausible portrait is not the same as a genuinely historical portrait.

ChatGPT:

You’re absolutely right. There’s a distinction between what’s plausible based on available evidence and what’s historically certain. Historical research, particularly in areas where sources are sparse or potentially biased, often deals in probabilities rather than certainties.

A “plausible” portrait is constructed from available evidence and seeks to present a coherent and likely picture based on that evidence. This construction is influenced by the methodology, assumptions, and sometimes even the biases of the historian or scholar in question. It tries to answer the question, “Given the available evidence, what is a reasonable interpretation of this figure or event?”

A “genuinely historical” portrait would imply a level of objectivity and certainty that is often elusive in historical studies, especially when dealing with ancient figures like Jesus. It would seek to answer the question, “What can we know for certain about this figure or event?”

In the case of Jesus, while certain broad strokes—like his existence, his role as a teacher or prophet, his crucifixion under Pontius Pilate—have a high degree of consensus among historians due to their multiple attestations and contextual fit, many specifics of his life, teachings, and actions remain in the realm of plausibility rather than certainty.

It’s important for anyone engaging with historical research to be aware of these distinctions and the inherent limitations of the sources and methods at our disposal. Always, the challenge for the historian is to navigate between healthy skepticism and reasonable inference, drawing conclusions that are as grounded in the evidence as possible while acknowledging the gaps and uncertainties that persist.

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Me: What ancient figures are studied by ancient historians who have a comparable level of acceptance of probability rather than certainty?

ChatGPT:

Many ancient figures are studied with a sense of probability rather than certainty. The further back in time we go, the scarcer and more fragmented our primary sources become. Even for relatively well-documented figures, there are often gaps in the record or ambiguities in the sources. Here are some examples:

    1. Socrates: We don’t have any writings from Socrates himself. Our knowledge of him comes mainly from his students, primarily Plato and Xenophon, and references from contemporaries like Aristophanes. Different sources present varying portraits of Socrates, making it challenging to pin down with certainty his exact views and personality.
    2. Confucius: While his ideas are foundational to Chinese thought, exact details of Confucius’s life and many of his sayings are wrapped in tradition and later interpretations. “The Analects,” the primary source of his teachings, is a compilation of sayings attributed to him and was written down by his followers long after his death.
    3. Homer: There’s ongoing debate about whether Homer, traditionally said to be the author of the “Iliad” and the “Odyssey,” was a historical person, multiple persons, or a symbolic figure representing a tradition of oral poets.
    4. King Arthur: The historical existence of King Arthur, a legendary British leader who supposedly led the defense against Saxon invaders, is debated among historians. The main sources about him, like Geoffrey of Monmouth’s “Historia Regum Britanniae,” were written centuries after the supposed events and are mixed with legend.
    5. Pre-Imperial Chinese Emperors: Figures like the Yellow Emperor or Emperor Yao are central to Chinese legends and traditions, but historical details about their reigns, achievements, and even their historical existence are debated.
    6. Boudica: The Celtic queen who led a revolt against the Romans is known primarily through Tacitus and Cassius Dio, both of whom wrote about her years after the events and had their own biases.
    7. Druids: These religious figures from ancient Celtic cultures are surrounded by mystique, with most of our detailed accounts coming from Roman sources, like Julius Caesar’s “Gallic Wars.” There’s a level of uncertainty about their practices, beliefs, and societal roles.
    8. The Hebrew Patriarchs (Abraham, Isaac, Jacob): While foundational to Jewish, Christian, and Islamic traditions, there’s limited archaeological and external textual evidence for their historical existence and activities.

These examples underscore a crucial point: Ancient history often requires a careful balance between the analysis of available sources and the acknowledgment of the inherent uncertainties. Whether studying Jesus, Socrates, or Boudica, historians must grapple with gaps in the record, potential biases in sources, and the challenges of distinguishing legend from fact.

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Me: But some of those figures are indeed concluded to be nonhistorical by historians (e.g. Homer, Arthur) — and it is accepted that the teachings we have of Socrates are really the teachings of Plato. There is a difference between being certain about certain events and persons and the details of those events and what those people actually said.

ChatGPT:

Absolutely, you’re right to draw attention to these nuances.

    1. Homer and Arthur: While some scholars have proposed historical cores for figures like Homer and King Arthur, there’s no clear consensus. Many believe that “Homer” might represent a tradition or amalgamation of several poets rather than a single historical individual. Similarly, King Arthur, if he existed, is likely very different from the legendary figure represented in later medieval romances.
    2. Socrates: While the teachings in Platonic dialogues are often seen as primarily reflecting Plato’s own philosophical development, especially in the later dialogues, many scholars believe that the earlier dialogues may capture the essence of the historical Socrates’ ideas. Still, it’s recognized that we’re seeing Socrates through Plato’s lens, making it challenging to differentiate between the historical figure and his portrayal by his most famous student.

The point is that when historians engage with such ancient figures, there’s often a spectrum of opinion, informed by various methodologies and interpretive frameworks. Some figures, like Socrates, are widely accepted as historical, but details of their lives and teachings remain debated. Others, like Homer or Arthur, occupy a more nebulous space, with debates about their very historicity.

Regarding the study of Jesus, while his existence and some broad aspects of his life have a strong consensus among historians, many details, especially specifics of his teachings and actions, fall into the realm of probability rather than certainty. This complexity arises from the nature of our sources, which are primarily religious texts with theological agendas.

Your broader point stands: there’s a spectrum from historical certainty to uncertainty in ancient history, and it’s crucial to delineate where any given figure or event stands on that spectrum.

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Me: In the case of Socrates we have independent contemporary witnesses (e.g. Plato, Aristophanes, Xenophon), but in the case of Jesus we do not.

ChatGPT:

That’s a valid observation. The nature and variety of evidence for Socrates differ from that for Jesus, and the types of sources available have implications for historical reconstructions.

For Socrates:

    1. Plato: A student of Socrates who wrote dialogues where Socrates is the main character. While the historicity of these dialogues varies, they provide a significant amount of information (though interpreted and perhaps idealized) about Socrates’ teachings and methods.
    2. Xenophon: Another student of Socrates who wrote about him, providing a somewhat different portrayal than Plato. Xenophon’s “Memorabilia” offers a defense of Socrates against the charges that led to his execution.
    3. Aristophanes: A contemporary playwright who caricatured Socrates in his comedy “The Clouds.” While not a factual account, it gives a glimpse into how Socrates was perceived by some in Athenian society.

These sources provide different perspectives, and their independent attestations bolster the case for a historical Socrates, even as they offer varying portrayals of him.

For Jesus:

    1. The Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, John): These are the primary sources of information about Jesus, but they are theological in nature and were written decades after the events they describe. While they draw on earlier traditions (oral or written), discerning the historical from the theological is challenging.
    2. Pauline and other New Testament Letters: These were written closer in time to Jesus’ life but focus more on theological interpretations and the early Christian community than on the details of Jesus’ life.
    3. Josephus and Tacitus: These are non-Christian sources that mention Jesus or early Christians. However, their accounts are brief and were written some decades after Jesus’ lifetime.

The key difference, as you rightly noted, is the contemporaneity and independence of the sources. For Socrates, we have writings from his direct students and a contemporary comedic portrayal. For Jesus, our primary sources are later and are written with a specific theological intent, making the task of historical reconstruction more complex.

This doesn’t mean that a historical reconstruction of Jesus is impossible or invalid, but it requires careful methodological consideration, awareness of the nature and limitations of the sources, and often results in conclusions framed in terms of probability rather than certainty.

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Me: Paul concedes never having met Jesus and stresses he is not interested in knowing about any Jesus “according to the flesh”, so he is hardly a witness to the historical Jesus.

ChatGPT:

Indeed, Paul’s relationship with the historical Jesus is a unique and debated topic within New Testament scholarship. It’s correct that Paul did not know Jesus during his earthly ministry and primarily emphasized a spiritual or revelatory knowledge of Jesus. Here are some points to consider:

    1. Revelatory Experience: Paul’s foundational experience was his encounter with the risen Christ on the road to Damascus. This experience, described in several places in the New Testament (Acts 9, 22, 26; Galatians 1:11-24), was revelatory in nature. Paul understood his apostolic authority as stemming from this direct revelation from Jesus.
    2. Not According to the Flesh: In 2 Corinthians 5:16, Paul writes, “From now on, therefore, we regard no one according to the flesh. Even though we once regarded Christ according to the flesh, we regard him thus no longer.” This statement is complex, and interpretations vary. Some see it as evidence that Paul was disinterested in the earthly, historical Jesus. Others believe it emphasizes the spiritual, transformative nature of understanding Christ post-resurrection.
    3. Historical References: While Paul’s primary focus was on the theological significance of Jesus’ death and resurrection, there are moments in his letters where he alludes to or cites traditions that seem to have a basis in the historical life of Jesus. For instance, in 1 Corinthians 11:23-25, Paul refers to the Last Supper tradition, and in 1 Corinthians 15:3-8, he provides a list of resurrection appearances. These references suggest that while his primary focus was theological, Paul wasn’t entirely disconnected from traditions about Jesus’ earthly life.
    4. Information from Other Apostles: In Galatians 1:18-19, Paul mentions meeting Cephas (Peter) and James, the Lord’s brother, in Jerusalem. While the exact nature and content of their interactions are not detailed, it’s possible that Paul received some traditions or teachings about Jesus during such encounters.

In summary, while Paul’s primary engagement with Jesus was theological and based on revelatory experiences, his letters contain hints of awareness of the historical Jesus. However, it’s true that for historical reconstructions of Jesus’ life and teachings, Paul’s letters are of limited direct utility, especially when compared to the Gospels.

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Me: How can the gospels be of use if they derive from a generation after the events purported to be of Jesus’ life and do not offer readers any assurance about their sources? Even the prologue in Luke’s gospel is very vague.

ChatGPT:

You’ve touched upon some longstanding challenges and debates in historical Jesus research. The Gospels, while primary sources for the study of Jesus, present methodological challenges due to their genre, the time gap between the events and their composition, and their theological nature. Let’s unpack some of these issues:

    1. Genre and Intent: The Gospels are not historical accounts in the sense of modern historiography. They’re a mix of biography (or “bios” in the Greco-Roman tradition), theology, and proclamation. They were written for communities of believers and aimed not just to inform but also to inspire faith.
    2. Time Gap: The Gospels were written decades after the events they describe. Mark, the earliest, is typically dated around 65-70 CE, with Matthew and Luke in the 80s or 90s, and John potentially as late as the 90s or early 100s. This time gap means they’re reliant on oral and perhaps written traditions that circulated before them.
    3. Anonymous Authors: The traditional attributions of the Gospels (to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John) are not found within the texts themselves and were assigned later. The authors do not provide detailed accounts of their sources or methodologies.
    4. Theological Development: Over the decades between Jesus’ ministry and the writing of the Gospels, theological reflection and developments occurred within the Christian community. This evolution is evident in the way the Gospel writers shape their narratives and emphasize different aspects of Jesus’ teachings and deeds.
    5. Luke’s Prologue: While Luke does offer a prologue (Luke 1:1-4) suggesting an intent to provide an “orderly account,” it’s true that he doesn’t specify his sources or offer detailed methodological insights. His reference to “eyewitnesses and servants of the word” is intriguing but not explicit about who these were or how he accessed their testimonies.

Given these complexities, how can scholars approach the Gospels historically?

    1. Comparative Analysis: By comparing Gospel accounts of the same events or teachings, scholars can try to discern earlier traditions or layers within the text.
    2. Criteria of Authenticity: While not without criticism, several criteria, like the criterion of embarrassment or the criterion of multiple attestation, have been used to evaluate the likelihood of certain events or sayings going back to the historical Jesus.
    3. External Corroboration: While limited, external sources like Josephus or Tacitus, or archaeological findings, can provide some context or confirmation for certain Gospel claims.
    4. Social and Historical Context: Understanding the 1st-century Palestinian context can provide insights into which Gospel elements might reflect genuine historical situations or concerns.
    5. Awareness of Later Theological Development: By being aware of how early Christian theology developed, scholars can sometimes discern between earlier traditions and later theological reflections in the Gospels.

In sum, while the Gospels are challenging sources for historical reconstruction, they are not unusable. They require careful and nuanced methodological approaches. Even with these methods, conclusions often remain in the realm of probability rather than certainty.

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Me: But “multiple attestation” can confirm nothing unless the multiple witnesses are independent of one another. Albert Schweitzer long ago conceded that since all the sources go back to the one origin, early Christianity itself, we are trapped in a circularlity.

ChatGPT:

You’re right to highlight the challenge. Multiple attestation as a criterion has its limitations, especially when applied to the New Testament materials, where the interdependence of the sources is a key concern.

Multiple Attestation and Interdependence: The Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) have a complex literary relationship. The majority scholarly view, the Two-Source Hypothesis, posits that Matthew and Luke both had access to Mark’s Gospel and another hypothetical source called Q (from the German “Quelle” meaning “source”). This means that many of the overlaps between these Gospels cannot be considered truly independent. Moreover, while John’s Gospel is different in style and content from the Synoptics, it’s debated whether John had knowledge of any of the Synoptic accounts.

Albert Schweitzer, in his seminal work “The Quest of the Historical Jesus,” did indeed acknowledge the challenges and limitations of then-current methodologies in historical Jesus research. He was critical of the way many scholars seemed to recreate Jesus in their own image, influenced by their theological or philosophical presuppositions.

Challenges of Circular Reasoning: If all our sources can be traced back to a single early Christian tradition or set of traditions, then multiple attestation merely confirms that a particular story or saying was widespread in early Christianity, not necessarily that it goes back to the historical Jesus. This is a significant methodological challenge.

However, while acknowledging these challenges, many scholars believe that there still can be value in the criterion of multiple attestation, especially when combined with other criteria. For instance:

    1. Different Forms: If a saying or deed of Jesus is found in multiple forms (e.g., in a parable, a saying, and a narrative), it might increase the probability of its historical authenticity.
    2. Multiple Contexts: If a tradition is attested across different early Christian communities or contexts, it might be seen as more likely historical.
    3. Dissimilarity: This is another often-used criterion. If a saying or deed of Jesus is dissimilar from both the Judaism of his time and the early Christian community, it might be considered more likely to be historical.

Still, all these criteria have their own limitations and critiques. In essence, the work of the historical Jesus scholar involves navigating these methodological challenges, being transparent about the limitations, and making probabilistic judgments based on the evidence available.

Scholars, since Schweitzer’s time, have been keenly aware of these challenges. Yet, while some are more skeptical about what can be known of the historical Jesus, others believe that a careful and critical use of these methods, combined with other insights (e.g., archaeology, social-scientific models), can still yield a reasonable portrait, albeit with acknowledged uncertainties.

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Me: But don’t all those other criteria rest upon the circular assumption that there is a historical core or origin to begin with?

ChatGPT:

You’re identifying a fundamental epistemological challenge in historical Jesus research: How can one establish a “historical core” when the primary sources (the Gospels) are theological in nature and were written decades after the purported events? The criteria are, indeed, attempts to sift through these theological texts to extract what might be historical, but their effectiveness and validity are subjects of debate.

    1. Criteria of Dissimilarity: This criterion assumes that if something doesn’t fit the context of early Christian beliefs and also doesn’t fit the context of earlier Jewish beliefs, it’s more likely to be historical. The logic is that the early Christian community wouldn’t have invented something that didn’t serve their theological or evangelistic purposes. However, critics point out that this might lead to an overly “stripped-down” Jesus, only recovering what’s anomalous.
    2. Criterion of Embarrassment: This posits that the early Christian community wouldn’t have invented stories or sayings that would be embarrassing or challenging to them. Critics argue that what might seem “embarrassing” to us today might not have been to the earliest Christian communities.
    3. Criteria of Coherence: Once some sayings or deeds are deemed authentic (using other criteria), this criterion checks if other sayings or deeds are coherent with those. The circularity potential here is evident: the criterion’s effectiveness depends on the effectiveness of other criteria.
    4. Multiple Attestation: As we discussed, this criterion can indeed be problematic if the sources are not genuinely independent.

To your point, if one starts with a deep skepticism about the Gospels containing any genuine historical material, then these criteria might seem like tools to confirm pre-existing assumptions rather than objective methods. Indeed, a critic might argue that they are simply tools to extract from the texts what modern scholars find plausible based on current understandings of the historical context.

However, many scholars believe that while these criteria are not infallible, they can, when used judiciously, help to navigate the complex terrain of the Gospels to provide probable reconstructions. They argue that complete skepticism (i.e., the view that we can know next to nothing about the historical Jesus) is as much a position of faith as complete credulity.

In summary, you’re right to identify an underlying assumption: that there is a historical core or origin to the Gospel narratives. This assumption is based, in part, on the broader historiographical principle that texts, even when written with biases or theological aims, can still contain kernels of genuine history. How to extract that history, and how confident one can be about the reconstructions, remains a challenge and a topic of debate.

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Me: Why do you speak of “deep skepticism” as if a refusal to accept circularity is somehow a flaw, an extreme position?

ChatGPT:

You raise a valid point. The phrasing “deep skepticism” might inadvertently imply a negative or extreme position, and I apologize for that. Skepticism in historiography is essential, especially when dealing with ancient sources that are layered with theological, literary, and political agendas. It ensures that historical reconstructions are grounded and not overly speculative.

It’s not a flaw to demand rigorous methodology and to reject circular reasoning. Indeed, one could argue that approaching ancient texts with a healthy dose of skepticism is a scholarly strength, as it can lead to more nuanced and cautious conclusions.

The challenge with historical Jesus research is that there’s a wide spectrum of positions, from those who believe we can know quite a lot about the historical Jesus based on the existing sources, to those who believe we can know very little or almost nothing. Each position has its own set of assumptions and methodological challenges.

Your criticism is a reminder that scholars, and those discussing scholarly work, need to be aware of and transparent about the assumptions underlying their methodologies and conclusions.

–0–

Conclusion: It is easier and more informative to have a discussion about such fundamental questions with artificial intelligence than it is with many human theologians and their lay acolytes who are quick to express outrage or contempt that such questions are raised at all by an outsider.


A Dialog with ChatGPT on Christian Origins

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

by Neil Godfrey

While recently attempting to relate the views of the anthropologist Harvey Whitehouse to what we know of Christian origins, I decided to turn to an obliging dialog partner for assistance — ChatGPT. For background you might want to skim through what I wrote about Whitehouse’s models at https://vridar.org/2020/06/20/modes-of-religiosity/

Me: Given Harvey Whitehouse’s description of the doctrinal and imagistic modes of religiosity, what is the most likely origin of Christianity?

ChatGPT:

Harvey Whitehouse’s theory distinguishes between two modes of religiosity: the imagistic and the doctrinal modes. These modes differ in their frequency and emotional intensity, the way they are transmitted, the nature of their rituals, and their social organization.

    • Imagistic Mode: This mode is characterized by:
      • Low-frequency, high-arousal rituals (e.g., initiations)
      • Emotional bonding
      • Informal, often decentralized social structures
      • Knowledge often passed down through oral tradition and personal experience
    • Doctrinal Mode: This mode is characterized by:
      • High-frequency, low-arousal rituals (e.g., regular worship services)
      • Emphasis on doctrine and orthodoxy
      • Centralized authority and more formal organizational structures
      • Knowledge passed down through codified texts, doctrines, and teachings

Given this distinction, the origins of Christianity can be seen in both modes but with a clear progression from the imagistic to the doctrinal:

    • The Imagistic Beginnings:
      • Jesus and his disciples: The early ministry of Jesus involved a close-knit group of followers experiencing transformative moments together, reminiscent of the imagistic mode. For instance, Jesus performed miracles, healings, exorcisms, and other rare and emotionally intense events.
      • Early Christian communities: After Jesus’s crucifixion and reported resurrection, early Christian communities shared meals (the Eucharist), remembered Jesus’s teachings, and recounted stories of his life. They often met in secret and were bound together in the face of persecution.
    • Transition to the Doctrinal Mode:
      • Pauline epistles and missionary work: Apostle Paul’s letters to various Christian communities emphasized doctrine, ethical standards, and communal practices. His missionary work also spread Christianity, requiring more standardized beliefs and practices.
      • Canonical texts: As Christian communities grew and spread, there was a need to standardize teachings. This led to the formation of the New Testament canon, providing authoritative texts for doctrine and belief.
      • Institutionalization: By the 4th century, with the Edict of Milan in 313 AD and the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD, Christianity became a legal religion and later the state religion of the Roman Empire. This resulted in a formalized church hierarchy, standardized liturgies, and more consistent doctrinal teachings.

In conclusion, while the very origins of Christianity show traces of the imagistic mode, especially in the close-knit experiences of Jesus’s followers and the early Christian communities, it soon transitioned into a more doctrinal mode as it grew, spread, and became institutionalized. This progression can be seen in many religions as they move from small, personal, and intense beginnings to large, organized, and standardized institutions.

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Me: But how might that view of Christian origins change, if it would change, if we accepted that there were no historical basis for believing that the miracles Jesus performed were any more remarkable than those of other prophets or shamans of the day?

ChatGPT:

If one assumes that Jesus’ miracles were not historically more remarkable than those of other prophets or shamans of his time, the origins of Christianity would still need to be explained, as it grew to become a major world religion while many other similar movements did not. This change in perspective would shift the emphasis from the singular nature of Jesus’ miracles to other factors that contributed to the rise and spread of Christianity.

    1. Teachings and Message: Without the uniqueness of miracles as a focal point, the teachings and message of Jesus might be viewed as more central to the appeal of early Christianity. The message of universal love, forgiveness, and the promise of eternal life could have been particularly compelling in the context of the Roman Empire, with its diverse mix of cultures and beliefs.
    2. Apostle Paul and Early Christian Missionaries: Even without uniquely spectacular miracles, the work of Paul and other early missionaries was vital in spreading Christianity. Paul’s ability to bridge the gap between Jewish and Gentile worlds and his establishment of churches across the Roman Empire played a significant role in Christianity’s expansion.
    3. Community and Support: The early Christian communities were known for their mutual support, especially during times of persecution. This tight-knit communal bond, characterized by sharing of resources and a sense of belonging, could have made the religion attractive, irrespective of the nature of Jesus’ miracles.
    4. Narrative and Resurrection: The narrative of Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection would still remain pivotal. Even if his miracles were on par with other shamans or prophets, the resurrection story set Jesus apart. If this event were historically accepted or at least fervently believed in by early followers, it would still provide a unique foundation for the faith.
    5. Sociopolitical Context: The eventual acceptance and promotion of Christianity by the Roman state, starting with Emperor Constantine, would still be a turning point. The political patronage and the subsequent establishment of Christianity as the state religion would play a key role in its spread, regardless of the nature of Jesus’ miracles.
    6. Contrast with Existing Religions: The teachings of Christianity might have contrasted favorably with some of the existing religious practices of the time, offering a refreshing alternative to potential converts.

In conclusion, while the uniqueness of Jesus’ miracles might serve as an attractive feature of early Christianity, the faith’s spread and establishment can be attributed to a combination of theological, sociopolitical, and communal factors. If the miracles were viewed as no more remarkable than those of other contemporary figures, these other factors would likely take on increased importance in explanations of Christianity’s origins and growth.

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Me: But what if Jesus’ teachings were not any more radical than those of other idealistic Pharisees or prophets — but simply enjoined the ideal of keeping the spirit of the Mosaic law?

ChatGPT:

If we consider that Jesus’ teachings were not particularly radical or distinct from other idealistic Pharisees or prophets of his time and that he primarily emphasized keeping the spirit of the Mosaic law, then the rise and spread of Christianity would need to be attributed to factors beyond Jesus’ teachings alone.

      1. Charismatic Leadership: Even without radically different teachings, the charisma, leadership style, and personal qualities of a leader can have a significant impact. Many movements have been built around charismatic leaders whose personal qualities inspire deep loyalty and devotion among followers.
      2. The Role of Followers: The interpretations, writings, and organizational activities of early Christian followers, especially influential figures like Paul, would play a pivotal role. Paul’s efforts to spread Christianity to Gentiles, his theological contributions in the form of letters, and the establishment of Christian communities across the Roman Empire would remain key.
      3. Narrative of Crucifixion and Resurrection: Regardless of the nature of Jesus’ teachings, the narrative surrounding his crucifixion and resurrection would remain central. If this story were accepted, believed, or promoted by his followers, it provides a foundation of sacrifice and redemption that sets Christianity apart.
      4. Community Bonding: The ways in which early Christian communities operated—supporting one another, sharing resources, and forming tight-knit bonds—could still serve as a significant draw for many, making the faith appealing irrespective of how radical Jesus’ teachings were.
      5. Sociopolitical Factors: The eventual endorsement of Christianity by key political figures and its establishment as the state religion of the Roman Empire would still be major catalysts for its spread.
      6. Historical Preservation: The preservation and compilation of Christian teachings, stories, and letters into what became the New Testament canon might have played a role. Even if the teachings weren’t unique, the act of codifying and preserving them ensured they had a lasting impact.
      7. Opposition and Persecution: Paradoxically, opposition to a movement can sometimes strengthen it. Early Christian persecution might have galvanized communities, helping them define their identity in contrast to the larger Roman society.

In this scenario, Christianity’s growth would likely be attributed more to the efforts and circumstances of its early followers, the organizational structures they created, the narratives they built and promoted, and the sociopolitical contexts they navigated, rather than the distinctiveness of Jesus’ teachings themselves. The transformation of a localized movement centered on the teachings of a single figure into a global religion would be a testament to the combined effects of personal devotion, communal bonds, strategic efforts, and historical contingencies.

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Me: But is it plausible to think that followers of Jesus really imputed a divine status to him so early?

ChatGPT:

The question of when and how followers of Jesus began to ascribe to him a divine status is a complex and heavily debated topic within Christian origins scholarship. Here are some points to consider:

    1. Pauline Epistles: One of the earliest sources we have regarding beliefs about Jesus’ divine status are the letters of Paul. Scholars generally date these epistles to the 50s and 60s CE, within 20-30 years of Jesus’ death. In these letters, Paul already describes Jesus using terms and concepts that suggest a divine or exalted status. For instance, in Philippians 2:6-11, Paul cites a hymn that speaks of Jesus as being in the “form of God” and then taking on the “form of a servant.” This suggests that at least some early Christians held a high view of Jesus’ status relatively soon after his death.
    2. Diverse Early Christologies: It’s essential to recognize that early Christian beliefs about Jesus were not monolithic. There was a range of beliefs about his nature, role, and status. While some early Christian communities might have emphasized Jesus’ divine status early on, others might have seen him primarily as a prophet, teacher, or messianic figure. Over time, as Christianity developed, certain beliefs became more standardized, especially after the First Council of Nicaea in 325 CE.
    3. Influence of Jewish Concepts: Some scholars argue that certain Jewish concepts could have paved the way for early views of Jesus’ divinity. For example, the Jewish notion of “Wisdom” (as seen in Proverbs and the Wisdom of Solomon) was sometimes personified and described in terms that bordered on the divine. Similarly, the “Son of Man” figure in the Book of Daniel is portrayed as a heavenly figure receiving everlasting dominion. These concepts might have provided a framework for understanding Jesus in divine or semi-divine terms.
    4. Experiences of the Early Followers: The reported experiences of Jesus’ followers after his death, especially resurrection appearances and the experience of the Pentecost, likely played a significant role in shaping their beliefs about his status. If they believed they had encountered the risen Jesus or had received the Holy Spirit, these profound experiences could have reinforced or even elevated their views about Jesus’ nature and role.
    5. Evolution Over Time: It’s also plausible that views of Jesus’ divine status evolved over time. The earliest followers might have seen him as an anointed prophet or messiah, and as stories about him were told and retold, theological reflection deepened, and experiences were interpreted, his status in the beliefs of his followers could have been elevated.
    6. Comparative Context: The Greco-Roman world, where Christianity spread, was familiar with stories of divine beings, demi-gods, and divine emperors. Some scholars argue that as Christianity interacted with these cultural ideas, it influenced the way Jesus was understood and portrayed.

In conclusion, it is plausible to think that at least some followers of Jesus began to ascribe to him a divine or exalted status relatively early, influenced by a combination of their experiences, existing religious concepts, theological reflection, and the broader cultural context. However, exactly how this developed, the pace of its development, and its nuances would have varied across different Christian communities and contexts.

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Me: So with the above discussion in mind, how might Whitehouse’s doctrinal and imagistic modes of religiosity explain Christian origins — if they can?

ChatGPT:

Harvey Whitehouse’s modes of religiosity—imagistic and doctrinal—can provide a conceptual framework to understand the dynamics of early Christian communities and their development. If we apply these modes to the origins of Christianity, the picture might look something like this:

    1. Imagistic Mode:
      • The Early Ministry of Jesus: As mentioned earlier, Jesus’ ministry was characterized by transformative moments with his close-knit group of followers. Whether it was the Sermon on the Mount, the Last Supper, or other significant events, these can be seen as low-frequency, high-arousal events typical of the imagistic mode.
      • Post-Crucifixion Experiences: The reported post-resurrection appearances of Jesus to his disciples and the Pentecost experience, where followers felt the Holy Spirit’s descent, can be understood as intense, emotional events that deeply bonded the early Christian community.
      • Early Persecutions: The sporadic persecutions faced by the early Christians would have created intense, emotionally charged experiences that bonded communities together. Facing adversity or external threats can lead to strong in-group cohesion.
    2. Doctrinal Mode:
      • Paul’s Missionary Work: As Paul established churches across the Roman Empire and corresponded with them, he emphasized doctrine, ethical behavior, and communal practices. His letters, which aimed at addressing theological and practical issues, helped to lay the groundwork for a more standardized belief system.
      • Gospel Writings: The Gospels, written a few decades after Jesus’ death, sought to codify the stories and teachings of Jesus. They played a role in standardizing the narrative and teachings of Jesus, aligning with the high-frequency, low-arousal characteristics of the doctrinal mode.
      • Emergence of Church Hierarchy: As Christian communities grew and spread, the need for organizational structure became evident. The roles of bishops, deacons, and elders became more defined, and with them, a more centralized authority began to emerge.
      • Ecumenical Councils: By the 4th century and onward, councils like the Council of Nicaea were convened to address and resolve theological disputes. These councils aimed to standardize Christian belief and practice across the empire, reflecting the doctrinal mode’s emphasis on codified beliefs and centralized authority.

In light of this:

    • Christianity’s origins might be viewed as starting primarily in the imagistic mode, with intense, foundational experiences deeply bonding early followers of Jesus. The shared experiences, narratives, and challenges would have fostered a strong sense of community and identity.
    • As the movement grew and expanded geographically and demographically, there was a shift toward the doctrinal mode. The need for standardized teachings, regular communal practices, and a more structured hierarchy became evident. This shift ensured the movement’s cohesion and unity as it grew and faced new challenges.

In conclusion, Whitehouse’s modes of religiosity can offer a useful lens to understand the evolution and dynamics of early Christianity. The transition from imagistic to doctrinal modes can help explain how Christianity moved from a small sect centered around the charismatic teachings and events of Jesus’ life to a major world religion with standardized beliefs and practices.

–0–

Me: What evidence do we have for the historical nature of the events that provoked the imagistic mode of religiosity of those first followers of Jesus?

ChatGPT:

The events that might have provoked the imagistic mode of religiosity for the first followers of Jesus are derived primarily from the New Testament writings. When discussing evidence, we are delving into a realm where historical analysis meets religious belief. Different scholars hold various positions regarding the reliability of the New Testament as a source for reconstructing historical events. Still, most agree that some core elements reflect authentic traditions.

Here’s a look at the potential evidence:

      1. The Ministry of Jesus:
        • Source Multiplicity: Multiple sources (the Synoptic Gospels, John, Paul’s letters, and non-canonical writings) contain accounts of Jesus’ teachings, healings, exorcisms, and encounters. While they differ in detail and emphasis, there’s a consensus among scholars that Jesus had a public ministry with acts and teachings that drew attention.
        • Criteria of Embarrassment: Historians often consider accounts that could be potentially embarrassing or difficult for the author’s cause to be more likely authentic. Examples include John the Baptist baptizing Jesus (indicative of a subordinate position) and Jesus’ crucifixion (a shameful death for a messianic figure).
      2. The Crucifixion:
        • Multiple Attestation: All four Gospels and Paul’s letters affirm the crucifixion of Jesus. Even non-Christian sources, like the Jewish historian Josephus and Roman historian Tacitus, reference Jesus’ execution.
        • Criteria of Embarrassment: As mentioned, crucifixion was a degrading form of execution. The early Christians would have little reason to invent such a story, making it likely historical.
      3. Resurrection Appearances:
        • Paul’s Testimony: In 1 Corinthians 15:3-8, Paul lists several individuals and groups who reportedly saw Jesus after his death, including Peter, the apostles, a group of over 500, James, and himself. This early creedal statement is dated to within a few years of Jesus’ death.
        • Empty Tomb Tradition: The Synoptic Gospels all contain accounts of women finding Jesus’ tomb empty. The consistent role of women as the primary witnesses, despite the cultural context where women’s testimonies were not highly valued, could be seen as an indication of authenticity based on the criterion of embarrassment.
        • Variation in Accounts: The varying resurrection accounts in the Gospels, while often seen as discrepancies, might also indicate that these are independent traditions, suggesting multiple lines of transmission about post-crucifixion appearances.
      4. Pentecost & The Holy Spirit:
        • Acts of the Apostles: The book of Acts describes the experience of Pentecost when the Holy Spirit descended on the apostles. This transformative experience, marked by speaking in tongues and bold proclamation, is foundational to the early Christian movement.
      5. Persecutions:
        • Paul’s Letters & Acts: Both sources reference the persecutions faced by early Christians. Paul’s own transformation from a persecutor to a proclaimer is also documented.
      6. Non-Christian Sources:
        • Writers like Josephus, Tacitus, Pliny the Younger, and the Jewish Talmud, albeit written a few decades after the events, provide external references to Jesus and early Christianity.

While the above points provide evidence that certain events or aspects of Jesus’ life and the early Christian movement are historical, the interpretation of these events varies widely. Many elements, especially supernatural claims, are matters of faith. Historical analysis can indicate the likelihood of events but often stops short of affirming the theological interpretations that religious believers might hold.

–0–

Me: But the criteria of authenticity you just appealed to have largely come under suspicion of being fallacious logically.

ChatGPT:

You’re right. Over the past few decades, many biblical scholars have raised concerns about the traditional criteria of authenticity, especially when used to reconstruct the historical Jesus. Some of the criticisms include:

      1. Criteria of Embarrassment: Critics argue that just because something might be embarrassing for early Christians doesn’t necessarily mean it’s historical. Such details might have served other narrative or theological purposes, or they might reflect conflicts and contexts of the communities in which the texts were written.
      2. Multiple Attestation: While having multiple sources report an event or saying might make fabrication less likely, it doesn’t necessarily prove historicity. Different sources might be drawing from a common earlier source, or an event could have been invented early and then been incorporated into multiple subsequent sources.
      3. Criteria of Dissimilarity: This criteria assumes that if a saying or action of Jesus is dissimilar from both Jewish and early Christian contexts, it’s more likely to be authentic. Critics point out that this presupposes we have a full understanding of both contexts and that it inadvertently casts Jesus as an entirely disconnected figure from his own Jewish environment.
      4. Post-Easter Influence: There’s a concern that many of the reported sayings and deeds of Jesus might have been shaped (or even invented) by early Christian communities in light of their post-resurrection beliefs, making it challenging to discern what traces back to the historical Jesus.
      5. Potential Circular Reasoning: Some scholars argue that these criteria can be used selectively or in ways that confirm pre-existing assumptions about Jesus. For instance, once a particular event is deemed “authentic” using one of these criteria, it can then be used as a backdrop to authenticate other events or sayings, leading to a potential circular validation.
      6. Over-simplification: The criteria might overly simplify the complex processes of oral tradition, community memory, and the compositional strategies of ancient authors. They might not account adequately for the nuances and intricacies of how traditions about Jesus developed and were recorded.

In light of these criticisms, many scholars now approach the criteria with caution. Some prefer to use them as general guidelines rather than strict rules, while others look to alternative methods altogether.

One such alternative is the “memory approach,” which studies how communities remember and transmit memories, considering both social and cognitive factors. This method aims to bridge the gap between the historical Jesus and the remembered Jesus in the Gospels, recognizing that while the Gospels do not provide direct access to the historical Jesus, they do offer a window into how early Christian communities remembered and interpreted him.

In summary, while the traditional criteria of authenticity have been valuable tools in historical Jesus research, they are not without their problems. Contemporary scholarship acknowledges these challenges and seeks more nuanced and comprehensive methods to explore the historical foundations of the New Testament narratives.

–0–

Me: But does not the criteria approach and the memory approach begin with the assumption that there are historical events behind the gospel narratives — even though it is the historicity of those events they seek to prove: is this an invalid circular process?

ChatGPT:

Your question touches upon one of the central methodological challenges in historical Jesus research. Historians aim to reconstruct past events based on available sources, but when those sources are also the subjects of investigation for their reliability, the process can appear circular. Here’s how the criticism is often framed and some responses to it:

    1. Presupposition of Historicity: Critics argue that both the criteria and memory approaches, to some extent, presuppose a historical core behind the Gospel narratives. By starting with this assumption, the methods can be seen as merely confirming what they already assume.
    2. Historical Context: In defense of these approaches, many scholars argue that it’s reasonable to start with the presumption that the Gospels, like other ancient texts, contain some historical information. While they’re theological in nature, they are still texts produced within a specific historical and cultural context. Therefore, the task is to sift through the material to determine which parts of the narratives reflect historical events and which are theological or literary constructs.
    3. Nature of Historical Inquiry: All historical work operates on certain presuppositions. For instance, historians generally assume that texts were produced by people who, like us, operated in a world governed by consistent patterns. The question isn’t whether one operates with presuppositions, but whether those presuppositions are reasonable and are held critically.
    4. Comparative Analysis: One way to mitigate the risk of circular reasoning is to engage in comparative analysis. By comparing the Gospel narratives to other contemporaneous writings and considering their place within the broader Greco-Roman and Jewish contexts, scholars can gain insights into patterns of composition, myth-making, and historical recording.
    5. Memory Approach’s Self-awareness: The memory approach, in particular, acknowledges from the outset that all memories—individual or collective—are interpreted and constructed. Instead of merely seeking “original events,” the memory approach investigates how events were remembered, interpreted, and reshaped over time. In doing so, it recognizes the inherent interplay between event and interpretation.
    6. Limitations and Tentativeness: Most reputable scholars in the field acknowledge the limitations of their methods and the tentativeness of their conclusions. While some events or sayings of Jesus can be deemed more probable than others, certainty remains elusive. The nature of the sources, the time gap between the events and their recording, and the theological intentions of the authors all mean that reconstructions of the historical Jesus are often offered with a degree of caution.

In summary, while there’s a valid point about potential circularity in historical Jesus research, many scholars believe that by being aware of their presuppositions, employing comparative methods, and acknowledging the limitations of their conclusions, they can still produce meaningful and plausible reconstructions of the past. The challenge, of course, is discerning the line between a historically cautious approach and a circular or overly presumptive one.

–0–

Me: It sounds like you’re saying that the cautious scholar is simply aware of the circularity of his endeavour but is unable to avoid it.

ChatGPT:

That’s a fair way to characterize the challenge. The inherent circularity in historical Jesus research arises from the tension between using the Gospels as sources of information about Jesus while simultaneously trying to assess their historical reliability. Here are a few nuances and clarifications:

      1. Historical Sources are Always Interpreted: Every historical source, not just the Gospels, is a blend of observation, interpretation, bias, and sometimes even fabrication. Historians always engage in the task of discerning how events were perceived, remembered, and recorded. While the circularity in historical Jesus research is more pronounced due to the theological nature of the sources, the process of interpreting and critically assessing sources is a staple of historical methodology.
      2. Criteria and Methodology: The criteria of authenticity (like embarrassment, dissimilarity, etc.) were developed as tools to try to break out of this circle by providing an “objective” means of assessing the Gospels’ content. However, as you’ve rightly pointed out, these criteria have faced criticism and are seen by some as being part of the circular process. Being aware of these limitations is essential, even if it doesn’t wholly resolve the issue.
      3. Historical Probability: One way to navigate this challenge is to frame discussions in terms of historical probability rather than certainty. Instead of aiming for concrete conclusions, many scholars try to determine what is more or less likely based on available evidence.
      4. Comparative Historical Context: Placing the Gospels in the wider context of other ancient writings, archaeological evidence, and the socio-political landscape of the time can provide external reference points against which Gospel accounts can be compared. This comparative approach can, to some extent, help mitigate the risk of circularity.
      5. Transparent Presuppositions: Being upfront about one’s presuppositions is crucial. While all scholars bring certain biases to their work, acknowledging them and being transparent about one’s methodology allows others to critically assess conclusions and arguments.
      6. The Value of the Endeavor: Despite the challenges and potential circularity, many scholars believe there’s value in the endeavor. Even if one can’t establish events with certainty, shedding light on the early Christian community’s beliefs, practices, and self-understanding is itself a worthy historical task.

In conclusion, while the potential for circular reasoning is a recognized challenge in historical Jesus research, scholars aim to navigate this by employing a range of methods, being transparent about their presuppositions, and framing their conclusions in terms of probability rather than certainty.

–0–

Me: What other historical research has that kind of circularity at its foundation?

ChatGPT:

The potential for circularity isn’t unique to historical Jesus research. Many areas of historical inquiry grapple with similar challenges, especially when primary sources are limited, are of a particular genre that blends fact with fiction or interpretation, or come from a context that has strong ideological or religious biases. Here are some examples:

    1. Ancient Mythologies and Foundational Stories: Many ancient cultures have foundational myths or legends, such as the tales of Romulus and Remus in the founding of Rome or the stories about King Arthur in British lore. Determining the historical realities behind such stories, if any exist, is challenging. Scholars can sometimes fall into a circular trap, using the narratives themselves as evidence for the events they describe.
    2. Biographies of Ancient Figures: Ancient biographies, unlike modern ones, often blended historical facts with moral lessons, allegories, and mythologies. The biographies of figures like Alexander the Great or Augustus Caesar, while based on historical figures, contain elements that are clearly legendary or propagandistic. Disentangling the historical from the legendary can be fraught with potential circularity.
    3. Religious Texts: Historical research into figures like the Buddha, Muhammad, or Moses faces challenges similar to those in historical Jesus research. Religious texts often blend history, theology, and interpretation, and determining the historical core can be difficult.
    4. Prehistoric Cultures: For cultures without written records, our primary sources of information are archaeological finds. Interpretations of these finds can sometimes be circular. For example, if a particular type of pottery is believed to be ceremonial based on its location and then another similar item is labeled ceremonial based on its resemblance to the first, a potentially circular argument has been made without external corroborating evidence.
    5. Oral Histories: Cultures with strong oral traditions, but limited written records, present challenges. The stories and histories passed down orally can evolve over time, and when they are finally recorded, the line between historical event and embellished or altered story can be blurry.
    6. Historiographies: When later historians rely heavily on earlier ones without a clear line to primary sources, there’s a risk of circularity. Later accounts might be seen as independent corroborations when they are, in fact, merely repetitions of earlier narratives.

These examples underscore that potential circularity is a challenge in many areas of historical research, not just in studies about Jesus. The key is for historians to recognize these pitfalls and be as transparent and methodical as possible in their methodologies, always open to reevaluation and critique.

–0–

I found it most refreshing and challenging to engage with such a “thoughtful” dialog partner. Certain New Testament scholars and their lay acolytes could learn a lot about how to engage with questions that challenge their assumptions and how to respond with civility and professionalism.

I continued the discussion by delving into problems of methodology. See the next post.


2023-09-28

Updated file

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

by Neil Godfrey

Since uploading the translated file of Gustav Volkmar’s Mark and the Synopsis of the Gospels I have made a few additions, corrections and clearer translations to it. I will be regularly updating this file over the next however long so check regularly for the latest version if you are reading or consulting it. The latest version is updated today, 28th September. There will be more updated versions. You may need to clear your cache each time to be sure you open or download the most recent version.

http://vridar.info/xorigins/Volkmar/Volkmar-Mark1876.pdf

 

 


2023-09-27

Not All Historians Are Equal

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

by Neil Godfrey

I have often tried to point out how historians as a rule have very different standards and methods for verifying past events from those we too often find among Bible scholars writing about Christian origins and Jesus himself. Two statements of “non-biblical” historians I have quoted in the past epitomize the divide between the two fields:

From the viewpoint of a professional historian, there is a good deal in the methods and assumptions of most present-day biblical scholars that makes one not just a touch uneasy, but downright queasy.Donald Harman Akenson

and when discussing a prominent New Testament scholar’s efforts to sift the historically probable from the mythical accretions in the gospels a leading ancient historian concluded:

This application of the ‘psychological method’ is neat, plausible, commonsensical. But is the answer right? Not only in this one example but in the thousands upon thousands of details in the story upon which Goguel or any other historian must make up his mind? I do not know what decisive tests of verifiability could possibly be applied. The myth-making process has a kind of logic of its own, but it is not the logic of Aristotle or of Bertrand Russell.Moses Israel Finley

But look what another prominent modern historian has written about the historical veracity underlying the Gospels. It is found in his book titled A Student’s Guide to the Study of History.

Consider the very words of the Gospel of St. Luke, Chapter 2:

And it came to pass, that in those days there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that the whole world should be enrolled. / This enrolling was first made by Cyrinus, the governor of Syria. / And all went to be enrolled, every one into his own city. / And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth into Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem: because he was of the house and family of David. To be enrolled with Mary his espoused wife, who was with child. / And it came to pass, that when they were there, her days were accomplished, that she should be delivered. / And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn….

This description—or account—is exactly and thoroughly historical. There is nothing even remotely comparable to that in the accounts of the coming of other gods or founders of religions, whether Greek or Roman or Oriental. Unlike other founders of religions before him, Jesus Christ was a historical person. For believing Christians he was not only a historical person of course, but that is not our argument here. The historicity of Jesus Christ (which we may regard as God’s great gift to mankind) is incontestable: there exist Jewish and Roman and other sources about the fact of his existence, though not of course of all his deeds and sayings (or of their meaning). The very writing of St. Luke is marked by the evidence of something new at that time: of historical thinking.  — John Lukacs, pp 14f. of Student’s Guide — italics original in all quotations; bolding is mine.

Three things to note:

  1. The primary reason Lukacs claims to believe in the historicity of Jesus is the writing style of the Gospel of Luke;
  2. Who would ever have expected to read in a book for students of history the reminder that Jesus Christ may be regarded as “God’s great gift to mankind”?
  3. Other sources testifying to Jesus are added in what appears to be a secondary note that merely confirms the conclusion to be drawn from the first.

Four points to ponder:

— 1. The actual content of that passage in Luke’s gospel is itself fiction! There never was a world-wide census requiring persons to return to their “own cities” to be counted. Such an event is entirely fanciful. Imagine the nightmare of trying to enforce it in reality. The scenario is a fairy-tale event told in the historical genre. The same historical genre goes on to depict angels in the sky talking to shepherds, a virgin giving birth and a host of other miraculous and supernatural events. Are we really to conclude from the “historical style” of Luke that it must be about genuine historical persons and events?

— 2. The Jewish and Roman sources are all written a century and more after the supposed event and can only tell us what some people at that time believed. Worse, some of those sources have a history of being disputed as forgeries. Those kinds of sources — where the origins of the narratives cannot be known — are never embraced as secure and foundational in other historical research.

— 3. Second Temple Judean fiction is known to embrace the historical style but that is no reason to conclude that the contents of those narratives are historical. Witness the historical style introducing the fanciful stories of Esther . . .

This is what happened in the days of Xerxes, who reigned over 127 provinces from India to Cush. In those days King Xerxes sat on his royal throne in the citadel of Susa. In the third year of his reign, Xerxes held a feast for all his officials and servants. The military leaders of Persia and Media were there, along with the nobles and princes of the provinces. And for a full 180 days he displayed the glorious riches of his kingdom and the magnificent splendor of his greatness.

of Tobit . . .

The tale of Tobit son of Tobiel, son of Ananiel, son of Aduel, son of Gabael, of the lineage of Asiel and tribe of Naphtali. In the days of Shalmaneser king of Assyria, he was exiled from Thisbe, which is south of Kedesh-Naphtali in Upper Galilee, above Hazor, some distance to the west, north of Shephat.

of Daniel . . .

In the third year of the reign of Jehoiakim king of Judah, Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon came to Jerusalem and besieged it. And the Lord delivered Jehoiakim king of Judah into his hand, along with some of the articles from the temple of God. These he carried off to the temple of his god in Babylonia and put in the treasure house of his god. Then the king ordered Ashpenaz, chief of his court officials, to bring into the king’s service some of the Israelites from the royal family and the nobility.

— 4. But fiction told with historical verisimilitude was not unique to the Judeans. The Greco-Roman literary world knew it well. If Homer had written a history of the Trojan war with gods fighting humans, a later author appealed to the more rational and sceptical readers of a later generation by finding an account that explained “how it really happened – historically!”

Cornelius Nepos sends greetings to his Sallustius Crispus.

While I was busily engaged in study at Athens, I found the history which Dares the Phrygian wrote about the Greeks and the Trojans. As its title indicates, this history was written in Dares’ own hand. I was very delighted to obtain it and immediately made an exact translation into Latin, neither adding nor omitting anything, nor giving any personal touch. Following the straightforward and simple style of the Greek original, I translated word for word. Thus my readers can know exactly what happened according to this account and judge for themselves whether Dares the Phrygian or Homer wrote the more truthfully-Dares, who lived and fought at the time the Greeks stormed Troy, or Homer, who was born long after the War was over. When the Athenians judged this matter, they found Homer insane for describing gods battling with mortals. . . . — letter claiming to be by the discoverer (Dares the Phrygian) of an eye-witness account of the Trojan War (by Dictys of Crete)

There are people today who still believe in “a historical core” behind one ancient tale told with all seriousness, even though it was originally presented by a philosopher as a myth:

Many great and wonderful deeds are recorded of your state in our histories. But one of them exceeds all the rest in greatness and valour. For these histories tell of a mighty power which unprovoked made an expedition against the whole of Europe and Asia, and to which your city put an end. This power came forth out of the Atlantic Ocean, for in those days the Atlantic was navigable; and there was an island situated in front of the straits which are by you called the Pillars of Heracles; the island was larger than Libya and Asia put together, and was the way to other islands, and from these you might pass to the whole of the opposite continent which surrounded the true ocean; for this sea which is within the Straits of Heracles is only a harbour, having a narrow entrance, but that other is a real sea, and the surrounding land may be most truly called a boundless continent. Now in this island of Atlantis there was a great and wonderful empire which had rule over the whole island and several others, and over parts of the continent, and, furthermore, the men of Atlantis had subjected the parts of Libya within the columns of Heracles as far as Egypt, and of Europe as far as Tyrrhenia.

Other examples could fill a book but I’ll limit myself to just one particularly dry, matter-of-fact biographical/historical narrative introduction:

I set out one day from the Pillars of Hercules and sailed with a following wind into the western ocean. My voyage was prompted by an active intellect and a passionate interest in anything new; the object I proposed to myself was to discover the limits of the ocean and what men dwelt beyond it. For this reason I took a great deal of food on board, and plenty of water. I got hold of fifty men of my own age and interests, as well as quite a store of arms, hired the best navigator I could find at a considerable salary, and strengthened the ship—a light transport—for a long and trying voyage. — from Lucian, A True History.

Is there any reason to disbelieve this introduction? Yes, there is. In this case the author warned us of exactly what he was about to write. We read in the lines immediately preceding that passage:

My subject, then, is things I have neither seen nor experienced nor heard tell of from anybody else: . . . So my readers must not believe a word I say.

The author was in fact writing a parody of works that pretended to be “true histories”:

I trust the present work will be found to inspire such reflection. My readers will be attracted . . . by the novelty of the subject, the appeal of the general design, and the conviction and verisimilitude with which I compound elaborate prevarications, . . . So when I came across all these writers, I did not feel that their romancing was particularly reprehensible; evidently it was already traditional, even among professed philosophers; though what did surprise me was their supposition that nobody would notice they were lying.

So why would Lukacs have confessed to being persuaded by the historical style of the second chapter of the Gospel of Luke — apparently blind to the fact that that style was being used to to describe a fictional event? Another historian pointed us to where we are likely to find the answer:

[T]he reader . . . must re-enact what goes on in the mind of the historian. Study the historian before you begin to study the facts. This is, after all, not very abstruse. It is what is already done by the intelligent undergraduate who, when recommended to read a work by that great scholar Jones of St Jude’s, goes round to a friend at St Jude’s to ask what sort of chap Jones is, and what bees he has in his bonnet. When you read a work of history, always listen out for the buzzing. If you can detect none, either you are tone deaf or your historian is a dull dog. The facts are really not at all like fish on the fishmonger’s slab. They are like fish swimming about in a vast and sometimes inaccessible ocean ; and what the historian catches will depend, partly on chance, but mainly on what part of the ocean he chooses to fish in and what tackle he chooses to use – these two factors being, of course, determined by the kind of fish he wants to catch. — E. H. Carr, p. 23 of What is History?

John Lukacs (source)

We don’t have to ask a friend who may know John Lukacs. We have Lukacs giving an account of the bee in his bonnet in We at the Center of the Universe. There he writes:

. . . I happen to believe in God, and that Christ was his son. (Why I believe this, or perhaps why I wish to believe it, is not easy to tell, being part and parcel of my interior life — something that does not belong here.) Still, what this belief means, and what it ought to mean, is a recognition that Christ’s life among us, on this earth, may have been the cen­tral event in the history of mankind. If so, then this histor­ical event took place in what was then (and not only then but since and in the future) the center of the universe. I know that, being such a believer, I am among a minority of human beings. . . . 

To this I wish to add my anxiety about many believing Christians whose belief in Christ may be honest, sincere, and profound. Evidence suggests that their view of the world and of its history now exists together with, or at least alongside, their belief in endless progress, including the power of humankind to know and rule more and more of the universe, beyond this small planet where God makes us live. Sometimes I fear that as the life of Christ—only 2,000 years ago, a tiny portion of what we know of the history of mankind—becomes further and further away because of the passage of time, the meaning of his words, his life, his calvary may weaken in the imagination of men. . . . — Lukacs, pp. 8f of At the Center.

 


Akenson, Donald Harman. Surpassing Wonder: The Invention of the Bible and the Talmuds. New edition. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001.

Carr, Edward Hallet. What Is History? New York: Vintage, 1967.

Finley, M. I. Aspects of Antiquity: Discoveries and Controversies. Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin, 1972.

Frazer, Jr., R. M., trans. The Trojan War: The Chronicles of Dictys of Crete and Dares the Phrygian. Bloomington & London: Indiana University Press, 1966.

Lucian. “A True Story.” In Collected Ancient Greek Novels, edited by B. P. Reardon, translated by B. P. Reardon, 619–49. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989.

Lukacs, John. A Student’s Guide to the Study of History. Wilmington, Delaware: Intercollegiate Studies Institute, 2014.

Lukacs, John. We at the Center of the Universe. South Bend, Indiana: St. Augustines Press, 2017.

Plato. Timaeus. Translated by Benjamin Jowett. Pennsylvania State University Press, 1999.



2023-09-26

Speaking of translations….

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

by Neil Godfrey

While recently focussed on translating older works I have been overlooking other works I have translated over the years and know that some readers may find of interest. Copyright forbids me from making many of them public but I could work my way through them one by one and see what can be shared. Here is one that I completed last year — though much of it is also available on Hermann Detering’s website in a series of posts.

ANCIENT CHRISTIAN WRITINGS

by “the last of the Dutch radicals”, G. A. V. D. BERGH VAN EYSINGA

CONTENTS:

FIRST PART

PREAMBLE …….8
INTRODUCTION …….9

I. GOSPELS …….35
1. The Gospel according to Matthew …….35
2. Mark …….45
3. Luke……. 51
4. John …….58
5. Peter …….66
6. Scattered Gospel Fragments…. 68

II. ACTS …….76
1. The Acts of the Apostles …….76
2. ofJohn …….83
3. Paul …….89
4. The Martyrdom of Polycarp …….91

III. LETTERS …….94
1. The Epistle of Paul to the Romans … 100
2. Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians … 107
3. ” Second Epistle of the Corinthians . . 112
4. Letter to the Galatians …….115
5. “”Ephesians …….121
6. “” Philippians …. 126
7. Colossians …….129
8. Both Letters of Paul to the Thessalonians …….133
9. Paul’s Letter to Philemon ………136
10. The Pastoral Epistles …….140
11. The Letter to the Hebrews …….146
12. The Epistle of James …….152
13. The First Letter of Peter …….156
14. The Second Letter of Peter …….159
15. The Letter of Jude …….161
16. The Three Letters of John …….162

SECOND PART

LETTERS (cont’d)
17. The Letter of Barnabas …….165
18. The First Letter of Clement to the Corinthians……… 171
19. The Second Letter of Clement to the Corinthians………179
20. The Letters of Ignatius and Polycarp……..183
21. The Letter of Ptolemy to Flora…….. 194

IV. REVELATIONS……..198
1. The Ascension of Isaiah……..200
2. The Revelation of John………203
3. The Revelation of Peter……. 210
4. The Shepherd of Hermas ……..213

V. RELIGIOUS TEXTBOOKS………223
1. The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles…….. 223
2. Athenagoras’ Resurrection of the Dead……. 229

VI. APOLOGETICS………233
1. The Plea of Aristides……..235
2. The Apologies of Justin Martyr……..238
3. Justin’s Dialogue with the Jew Trypho……..247
4. The Supplication of Athenagoras……….251
5. The Letter to Diognetus………….253
6. Tatian’s Speech to the Greeks…….256
7. The Octavius of Minucius Felix…….259

VII. READINGS…….264
1. A Psalm of the Nahassenen……..264
2. Benedictory Songs and liturgical texts from theActs of Thomas…….266
3. The Odes of Solomon…….274

VIII. THEOSOPHICAL AND EXEGETICAL FRAGMENTS…….281
Valentinus and his school………..281

IX CONCLUSIONS…….288

ABBREVIATIONS…….. 292

EXPLANATIONS OF TERMS……. 293


2023-09-25

Gustav Volkmar — a second translated work

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

by Neil Godfrey

Gustav Volkmar (wikidata)

Two weeks ago I posted my notice of a translation of Gustav Volkmar’s 1857 study of the Gospel of Mark that had been written for a general audience. This post is to notify interested readers of the availability of a translation of his far more academic 1876 work, Mark and the Synopsis of the Gospels according to the Documentary Text and the History of the Life of Jesus. Volkmar was clearly devoted to Jesus as the historical figure who changed the world but his study of the gospel narratives is intriguing for its scholarly and pioneering approach to identifying the sources of the Gospel of Mark, including his view that it was in part a reaction against the Book of Revelation. See the extract below of an essay by Anne Vig Skoven for further details.

Below is a copy of the static page that is now available in the right hand margin of this blog.

I have now translated two of Gustav Volkmar’s works:

  1. The Religion of Jesus (1857);
  2. Mark and the Synopsis of the Gospels (1876).

 

Gustav Volkmar (1809-1893) has been referenced a few times in this blog but the most detailed synopsis of his views on the Gospel of Mark came from a post by Roger Parvus: A Simonian Origin for Christianity, Part 16: Mark as Allegory

The following notes are taken from

  • Skoven, Anne Vig. “Mark as Allegorical Rewriting of Paul: Gustav Volkmar’s Understanding of the Gospel of Mark.” In Mark and Paul. Part II, For and against Pauline Influence on Mark: Comparative Essays, edited by Eve-Marie Becker, Troels Engberg-Pedersen, and Mogens Müller, 13–27. Beihefte Zur Zeitschrift Für Die Neutestamentliche Wissenschaft Und Die Kunde Der Älteren Kirche; Volume 199. Berlin, Germany ; Boston, Massachusetts: De Gruyter, 2014. https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/9783110314694.13/html?lang=en

    .
    [Anne Vig Skoven who wrote this essay was a PhD student at the University of Copenhagen until her tragic, premature death in 2013]

 

Unlike exegetes of the patristic tradition and also unlike most of 20th century scholarship, biblical scholars of the 19th century were not foreign to the idea that Paulinism was to be found in the Gospel of Mark. The founder of the so-called Tubingen School, Ferdinand Christian Baur (1792-1860), for instance, regarded the Gospel of Mark as a synthesis of Petrine and Pauline traditions. . . .

In 1857, the German exegete Gustav Hermann Joseph Philipp Volkmar (1809-93) characterized the Gospel of Mark as a Pauline gospel. Although Mark’s story was concerned with Jesus’ life and death, it was also, so Volkmar argued, permeated by Pauline theology. During his lifetime, Volkmar remained a solitary figure, and David Friedrich Strauss (1808-1874) once considered him a “närriger Kauz” [= a ludicrous little owl]. Nevertheless, at the end of the 19th century knowledge of Volkmar’s thesis and writings was widespread among German speaking scholars. His thesis drove a wedge into German biblical scholarship; Adolf Jülicher (1857-1938) and William Wrede (1859-1906) both appreciated Volkmar’s work, Albert Schweizer (1875-1965) and his student Martin Werner (1887-1964) did not. . . .

. . . . From 1833 to 1852, he taught in various Gymnasien, in which he primarily worked within the field of philology and classical studies. In 1850 he published a book on Marcion and the Gospel of Luke, in which he claimed against Baur and Albrecht Ritschl (1822- 1889) that Marcion’s gospel was a rewriting of Luke.’ According to Adolf Jülicher, Volkmar had deserved a chair for this – today widely accepted – thesis. However, a series of dramatic events prevented that. Due to church political controversies, Volkmar was arrested in the classroom in 1852 and charged with lese majesty and dismissed from his job. In 1853, he was called lo Zürich where he was finally appointed professor of New Testament studies in 1863. In Zürich he published the works which are of special relevance to the present study:

  • Die Religion Jesu und ihre erste Entwickelung nach dem gegenwärtigen Stande der Wissenschaft (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1857); a popular work, which introduced Volkmar’s thesis of Mark as a Pauline gospel.
  • Die Evangelien, oder Marcus und die Synopsis der kanonischen und ausserkanonischen Evangelien nach dem ältesten Text mit historisch-exegetischem Commentar (Leipzig: Ludw. Fr. Fues Verlag, 1870); a scholarly commentary on the Gospel of Mark, in which Volkmar, against Baur, forwarded his thesis that Mark was the first gospel, Luke the second and Matthew only the third. The commentary was republished in a slightly edited second edition with a new title in:
  • Marcus und die Synopse der Evangelien nach dem urkundlichen Text und das Geschichtliche vom Leben Jesu (Zürich: Verlag von Caesar Schmidt, 1876).

In addition to Volkmar’s traditional commentaries on the Markan text, the books from 1870/76 offer an early reception history of the Markan narratives. . . . .

In his biographical sketch of Gustav Volkmar from 1908, Adolf Jülicher characterizes Volkmar as an exegete whose work was framed to the one side by Baur’s Tendenztheorie and to the other side by Strauss’ scepticism (772 f). Yet, he differs from both schools on two important issues: historicity and Markan priority. With regard to Strauss, Volkmar welcomes his critique of the rationalistic and harmonizing exegesis of early 19th century scholarship. But he is also critical of Strauss’ concept of the gospel narratives as mythoi, instead he prefers the term “Poësie”. Unlike Strauss Volkmar emphasizes the historicity of the gospel narratives.Yet, his understanding of historicity, as well as his method are closer to those of 20th century redaction criticism than to the Leben Jesu Forschung of his own century. With regard to the Tübingen School, Volkmar treats the early Christian literature as Tendenzschriften. His overall project was to reconstruct the history of the gospel traditions as a reflection of the developments in early Christianity. But unlike the Tübingen exegetes, he accepted, as already mentioned, the thesis of Markan priority. Consequently, he rejected the idea of an “Ur-Evangelium” which was needed for the Tübingen explanation of the gospel relations. Likewise he rejected the idea of a Spruchbuch or Schriftquelle (1870, vili-xi; 1876, 646) – later identified as Q. According to Volkmar, Mark’s only sources were: the Old Testament writings, four Pauline letters (Romans, Galatians, 1 and 2 Corinthians), the oral tradition of early Christian communities – and, surprisingly, Revelation.

(pp 13-16)

The works I have translated and made available here are Volkmar’s 1857 Die Religion Jesu and Marcus und die Synopse der Evangelien (1876)

The Religion of Jesus
and its first development according to
the current state of scholarly knowledge

Mark and the Synopsis of the Gospels
according to the Documentary Text
and the History of the Life of Jesus


2023-09-09

Conspiracy Theories — The Who and The Why

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

by Neil Godfrey

30 minute interview with the author: From Salem to the Satanic Panic – Why Americans are Obsessed with Conspiracy Theories — About the author.

. . . he told me that while she wasn’t a stupid person, he described her as “someone who’s always had trouble finding a place in life, in terms of career and goals, and what her wants are and what her drives are. And as a result, she’s always been—as smart as she is—easily pulled into various groups and things. . . . The Deep State narrative, Eric felt, was attractive to her because it explained things to her “on some sort of abstract level as somebody who’s just sort of struggled to find their place in the world.

Colin Dickey, Under the Eye of Power — all excerpts from Apple Books

That passage reminded me of what I had read about the appeal of Donald Trump back in 2016: Understanding Trump’s Rise, Presidency — and a Positive Resolution to the Crisis — It painfully reminded me, too, of so much I have come to learn (and share in many posts here) about the appeal of cults, terrorist groups and suicide bombers. The same process of radicalization appears to me to be common to all.

We are family

As Miranda lost some of her friends, they were replaced by another community, one online that not only provided support and reassurance, but welcomed her as a soldier in a tremendous battle. “Take up this cause, because it’s the right cause—here’s all these people who know this is the right cause and will back you up and believe the same things that you do. And it’s got the extra bonus of ‘You’re special,’ on top of it, because “most of the world doesn’t even know that this is happening.”

The problem with dismissing “these people”

This attitude—that on some level we are being manipulated by deceitful journalists, and our emotions are being tweaked by social media algorithms, creating a landscape where conspiracy theories are allowed to flourish as they never have before—is a common one. But it creates a picture where conspiracy believers are themselves oddly passive: they are blank slates, onto which Fox and Facebook project harmful content, and, like children, they are powerless to resist. In the same way that Christian moralists argued that listening to heavy metal would lead impressionable teenagers to become Satanists, we have come to believe that social media companies like Facebook are so powerful that merely logging on can transform someone from a rational, thinking human being into a conspiracy obsessed paranoiac.

This argument has the benefit of offering a reassuring narrative to those of us not in journalism or on the board of Facebook: it’s not my fault I was exposed to this disinformation, I’m a passive consumer. Focusing on algorithms, on social media giants, and on journalists all has the soothing effect of encouraging us to see ourselves as powerless, passive receivers of information, rather than people who actively are shaping our reality.

As Twitter’s cofounder Evan Williams put it in 2017, there is a problem with the Internet, in that it rewards extremes. “Say you’re driving down the road and see a car crash. Of course you look. Everyone looks. The Internet interprets behavior like this to mean everyone is asking for car crashes, so it tries to supply them.” Which is to say, of course the Internet enables our worst behavior. But the behavior is ours to begin with. We believe things not just because Facebook feeds them to us; we believe them because we want to.

This emphasis on social media and the Internet also opens up space for the belief that a movement like QAnon is somehow new, something that has appeared from nowhere, a spontaneous upswelling of paranoia and ignorance. As should also be evident by now, conspiracy theories have been a hallmark of American democracy from its inception. Conspiracy theories—particularly those surrounding politics, which inevitably includes fears of secret groups—have been used time and time again to ameliorate unreconcilable contradictions that spur cognitive dissonance. A vital fact about QAnon necessary to understanding its allure is that it is neither sui generis—it is not some unique and abnormal thing unlike anything in America’s history—nor is it ex nihilo—it didn’t spring from nothing. Conspiracy belief has repeatedly caused riots and murders, ruined lives and careers, and reshaped America time and time again since its inception—as horrible as the past few years have been, they are part of a repeating pattern.

Something new this time

Why was the need to believe this narrative so strong among QAnon adherents that they were willing to buy a story with such a laughably improbable origin?

QAnon did offer one seemingly new aspect: an interactive component. As Mike Rothschild explains in his book The Storm Is Upon Us: How QAnon Became a Movement, Cult, and Conspiracy Theory of Everything, “Q talks directly to the people, and the people talk back to Q. It’s not monologing, it’s dialogue. Q encourages collaboration, and rewards anons who go above and beyond in their theorizing and interpretation.” QAnon mirrored the structure of true crime Reddit forums and other online communities, where amateur sleuths could build their own epistemic capital by connecting the dots and sharing their findings with others.

Waiting … doing nothing …

. . . echoes of another long-standing American tradition: prophecy behavior. “Watching, waiting, and working for the millennium,” . . . 

Facts alone rarely persuade

But for those who are in a position to combat these delusions and conspiracy beliefs, it’s important to note that it involves more than simply fact-checking. While factual debunking is vital, it remains less important than first understanding the psychological need that drives the conspiracist to seek out alternative stories.

Often, as Miranda’s story suggests, believers are looking for purpose, and conspiracy theorists—like cult leaders—don’t look for unintelligent people so much as they look for directionless people, people lacking meaning and purpose, who’ve lost family ties (at one point, Eric said of Miranda that she disliked the fact that she lived so far from her family in Florida, even though she came to California in part because she never quite fit in with them in the first place). As tempting as socially isolating these people may be, it’s the kind of behavior that becomes a vicious circle, driving them further into the arms of a community that welcomes them and nurtures feelings of victimhood and persecution. Whatever ability we have to try to reintegrate these people into other arenas of social life helps break that cycle.

In addition to community, conspiracy groups offer adherents a simplified narrative to dispel chaos in one’s life. They may also provide a cover story to justify racist, homophobic, and transphobic beliefs, ideas that a person may believe but feel they can’t publicly display. Such theories liberate believers and encourage a kind of free play for forbidden thoughts.

The eternal return

But a good part of the reason why such problems never get solved is due to the way they’re allowed to fade into obscurity almost as soon as the heat of the moment has passed. The prevalence of such moments depends on the destruction of a communal memory of these past outrages, a constant culture of forgetting, an almost state-sponsored amnesia designed to treat each emerging moral panic as entirely new.

 


Dickey, Colin. Under the Eye of Power: How Fear of Secret Societies Shapes American Democracy. New York, NY: Viking, 2023.



2023-09-08

Finding Paul in the Gospel of Mark — Volkmar translation

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

by Neil Godfrey

Gustav Volkmar (wikidata)

Here is a copy of what I have posted as a standalone page — see the right side margin under Pages and scroll down to Gustav Volkmar.

. . . .

Gustav Volkmar (1809-1893) has been referenced a few times in this blog but the most detailed synopsis of his views on the Gospel of Mark came from a post by Roger Parvus: A Simonian Origin for Christianity, Part 16: Mark as Allegory

The following notes are taken from

  • Skoven, Anne Vig. “Mark as Allegorical Rewriting of Paul: Gustav Volkmar’s Understanding of the Gospel of Mark.” In Mark and Paul. Part II, For and against Pauline Influence on Mark: Comparative Essays, edited by Eve-Marie Becker, Troels Engberg-Pedersen, and Mogens Müller, 13–27. Beihefte Zur Zeitschrift Für Die Neutestamentliche Wissenschaft Und Die Kunde Der Älteren Kirche; Volume 199. Berlin, Germany ; Boston, Massachusetts: De Gruyter, 2014. https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/9783110314694.13/html?lang=en

    .
    [Anne Vig Skoven who wrote this essay was a PhD student at the University of Copenhagen until her tragic, premature death in 2013]

 

Unlike exegetes of the patristic tradition and also unlike most of 20th century scholarship, biblical scholars of the 19th century were not foreign to the idea that Paulinism was to be found in the Gospel of Mark. The founder of the so-called Tubingen School, Ferdinand Christian Baur (1792-1860), for instance, regarded the Gospel of Mark as a synthesis of Petrine and Pauline traditions. . . .

In 1857, the German exegete Gustav Hermann Joseph Philipp Volkmar (1809-93) characterized the Gospel of Mark as a Pauline gospel. Although Mark’s story was concerned with Jesus’ life and death, it was also, so Volkmar argued, permeated by Pauline theology. During his lifetime, Volkmar remained a solitary figure, and David Friedrich Strauss (1808-1874) once considered him a “närriger Kauz” [= a ludicrous little owl]. Nevertheless, at the end of the 19th century knowledge of Volkmar’s thesis and writings was widespread among German speaking scholars. His thesis drove a wedge into German biblical scholarship; Adolf Jülicher (1857-1938) and William Wrede (1859-1906) both appreciated Volkmar’s work, Albert Schweizer (1875-1965) and his student Martin Werner (1887-1964) did not. . . .

. . . . From 1833 to 1852, he taught in various Gymnasien, in which he primarily worked within the field of philology and classical studies. In 1850 he published a book on Marcion and the Gospel of Luke, in which he claimed against Baur and Albrecht Ritschl (1822- 1889) that Marcion’s gospel was a rewriting of Luke.’ According to Adolf Jülicher, Volkmar had deserved a chair for this – today widely accepted – thesis. However, a series of dramatic events prevented that. Due to church political controversies, Volkmar was arrested in the classroom in 1852 and charged with lese majesty and dismissed from his job. In 1853, he was called lo Zürich where he was finally appointed professor of New Testament studies in 1863. In Zürich he published the works which are of special relevance to the present study:

  • Die Religion Jesu und ihre erste Entwickelung nach dem gegenwärtigen Stande der Wissenschaft (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1857); a popular work, which introduced Volkmar’s thesis of Mark as a Pauline gospel.
  • Die Evangelien, oder Marcus und die Synopsis der kanonischen und ausserkanonischen Evangelien nach dem ältesten Text mit historisch-exegetischem Commentar (Leipzig: Ludw. Fr. Fues Verlag, 1870); a scholarly commentary on the Gospel of Mark, in which Volkmar, against Baur, forwarded his thesis that Mark was the first gospel, Luke the second and Matthew only the third. The commentary was republished in a slightly edited second edition with a new title in:
  • Marcus und die Synopse der Evangelien nach dem urkundlichen Text und das Geschichtliche vom Leben Jesu (Zürich: Verlag von Caesar Schmidt, 1876).

In addition to Volkmar’s traditional commentaries on the Markan text, the books from 1870/76 offer an early reception history of the Markan narratives. . . . .

In his biographical sketch of Gustav Volkmar from 1908, Adolf Jülicher characterizes Volkmar as an exegete whose work was framed to the one side by Baur’s Tendenztheorie and to the other side by Strauss’ scepticism (772 f). Yet, he differs from both schools on two important issues: historicity and Markan priority. With regard to Strauss, Volkmar welcomes his critique of the rationalistic and harmonizing exegesis of early 19th century scholarship. But he is also critical of Strauss’ concept of the gospel narratives as mythoi, instead he prefers the term “Poësie”. Unlike Strauss Volkmar emphasizes the historicity of the gospel narratives.Yet, his understanding of historicity, as well as his method are closer to those of 20th century redaction criticism than to the Leben Jesu Forschung of his own century. With regard to the Tübingen School, Volkmar treats the early Christian literature as Tendenzschriften. His overall project was to reconstruct the history of the gospel traditions as a reflection of the developments in early Christianity. But unlike the Tübingen exegetes, he accepted, as already mentioned, the thesis of Markan priority. Consequently, he rejected the idea of an “Ur-Evangelium” which was needed for the Tübingen explanation of the gospel relations. Likewise he rejected the idea of a Spruchbuch or Schriftquelle (1870, vili-xi; 1876, 646) – later identified as Q. According to Volkmar, Mark’s only sources were: the Old Testament writings, four Pauline letters (Romans, Galatians, 1 and 2 Corinthians), the oral tradition of early Christian communities – and, surprisingly, Revelation.

(pp 13-16)

The work I have translated and made available here is Volkmar’s 1857 Die Religion Jesu. Perhaps I will also be able to make either his 1870 or 1876 work available in time.

The Religion of Jesus
and its first development according to
the current state of scholarly knowledge

 


2023-09-03

On “White” indigenous Australians …..

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

by Neil Godfrey

The many fair-haired blue-eyed Indigenous Australians (who often trigger scepticism and resentment in non-Indigenous Australians) were usually raised by Aboriginal mothers or removed from their Aboriginal mothers and placed in brutal institutions. They identify as Aboriginal because their white fathers, and often grandfathers too, never lifted a finger to help, or were only fleetingly in their lives. Their formative loving relationships were with their Aboriginal family.

It is one more reason why I am voting Yes – because our parliamentary representatives do not read Aboriginal memoirs and show no compassion for the decades of personal abuse inflicted on generations of Aboriginal families.

If you don’t know, please pick up any of the brilliant Aboriginal autobiographies that have been published over the past 50 years. They are all great reads and insights into this country and its history.

—– Libby Connors, Facebook post, 2nd September 2023

(I’ve referenced Libby Connors before …. see my post, Where None Shall Hunger. I quoted from her historical research published as Warrior — a book that opened my eyes to many aspects of the lives of the Aboriginal people who were once at home in the region where I now live.)

I can’t go beyond the following case for voting Yes in the coming referendum:

Massacred. Raped. Poisoned. Enslaved. Their children stolen. Their lands taken. Their religions, their culture and their languages destroyed.. yet there’s a No campaign?

—– Philip Adams, X, 24th February 2023

I dearly hope that the positive emphasis of the Yes campaign will turn back the shame that looms from the efforts of its opponents: A No vote will be Australia’s Trump moment.


2023-08-31

Gospel and Historical Jesus Criticism — Method and Consistency

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

by Neil Godfrey

Some critics have portrayed me as being like a moth fluttering to the nearest flame, as one who is always attracted to the latest most radical viewpoint, and therefore my views cannot be taken seriously. What those critics generally fail to recognize, however, is the consistency of my readings of the sources and the fact that my approach is for most part taken for granted among scholars who specialize in other fields of historical research.

Let me explain.

The historians of ancient Rome have their text sources: Tacitus, Suetonius, etc. Those historians have been trained to read those texts in a critical manner: What is the bias of the author? How could the author have known the details we are reading? etc.

At first glance, it appears that critics of the Gospels follow the same approach, and at a certain superficial level they do: What is the theological bias of the author of this gospel? What are the implied or likely sources for this or that episode or saying?

But there is a fundamental difference too often overlooked in the literature of New Testament scholarship that changes everything.

Before I explain that fundamental difference, let me narrate how I came to discern the great chasm between historical inquiry into “secular” ancient history and “biblical” history.

It was some years ago when I suppose I was still feeling somewhat raw from having discovered how wrong “about everything” I had once been in a religion that I had left behind. I had learned many lessons from my experience of having been so wrong — think of “In Praise of Failure” of my previous two posts — and had become hyper-sensitive about repeating mistakes and falling into a new set of misdirections. So when I encountered Earl Doherty’s case for Jesus being non-historical my instinctive reaction was extreme caution and scepticism. Was this just another idea that had no basis, was entirely ad hoc, a fancy for hobbyists?

I dedicated a lot of time to trying to work through exactly how we know anything at all “for a fact” about the ancient past. I read widely but found that most historians seemed to take for granted certain data that they read in their sources. They had their reasons for rejecting this or that detail, but I rarely found a clear explanation of how they came to conclude that, for instance, Julius Caesar really was assassinated, or that there really was a Great Fire in Rome in the time of Nero. That Julius Caesar and Nero really existed was evident enough from material evidence – coins and monuments. But what about Socrates? The historians seemed to have an abundance of data but I searched without much success to find a clear explanation for why they seemed to take certain information for granted (e.g. the existence of Socrates).

It took some time but I eventually came to identify the foundations of their knowledge.

The existence for Socrates, for whom we have no surviving physical monuments, was accepted for essentially the same reason they accepted the historicity of Julius Caesar: the evidence of one source was corroborated independently by another contemporary source. Even literary sources could corroborate one another. Historians focussed on areas for which they had sources whose provenance they could reasonably understand and trust, and that were demonstrated to be of the kind that had good grounds for conveying largely reliable information. Such sources are on the whole independently corroborated. Such understanding is the bread and butter of historians and many do seem to take it for granted so that it “goes without saying”.

But not every detail in those sources is taken for granted as historical, of course. Take the case of the plague of Athens during the Peloponnesian War. That there was a plague would seem to be corroborated by the fact that our main source for it — Thucydides — we know from other information was evidently an eyewitness and in a position to know and record the fact. It does not follow that every detail Thucydides wrote was historical, however. We also have fictional dramatic works describing plagues and since we see these closely mirrored in Thucydides’ description of the Athenian plague, it is reasonable to conclude that Thucydides drew upon those fictional sources to dramatize his otherwise historical narrative.

Can a historian sift historical information from the Gospels in the same way he or she does from Thucydides? The answer is a resounding No. That is because we have no contemporary or reliable information about the identity of their authors. We don’t even have any independent evidence to help us decide when they were written — except that they had to be some time before the middle or late second century because that’s when we find them discussed by Church Fathers. Moreover, and here is a point I find commonly misunderstood, they do not even evince core characteristics of other historical writings of the time: they do not even seek to give readers explicit or implicit reasonable grounds for trusting them. Yes, the Gospels of Luke and John do point to “eyewitnesses” but they do so in such vague and cryptic terms that doubts inevitably arise among readers who are familiar with similar yet more detailed and testable claims by other historians. The authors hide their identities, or leave readers guessing about their ability to trust them. The Gospel of Matthew plays with the word “mathete” in a way that leads readers of the Greek text to suspect the author is indeed a certain Matthew, but who that Matthew was we have no idea; Luke in his second volume (Acts) slips into “we” as if he himself is an eyewitness reporter, but again it is all very vague and cryptic. We don’t know who this supposed eyewitness is. And the final word must be that the Gospels are clearly theological narratives advocating belief in a miracle story. Anyone familiar with the historical writings of the era cannot fail to notice the stark differences.

I have spoken of independent corroboration. Independent corroboration has to come from contemporaries or from persons who have access to information contemporary with the composition of the texts being studied. A document that appears decades after the source text can do no more than tell us what someone believed (or wanted others to believe) in their own time. One of the reasons historians reject the claim that Martin Luther committed suicide lies in the fact that it first appeared only “twenty years” after his death.

We have no independent evidence to pin down a date for the creation of the Gospels. We may surmise from internal evidence (e.g. the prediction of the destruction of the Temple) that a work was composed around the time of its destruction but that is essentially nothing more than speculation.

Our extant evidence compels us to keep the following factors in mind when reading the Gospels as historical sources:

  • We do not know who wrote them or the circumstances in which they were written;
  • We do not know when they were written (short of somewhere between the early first century and the mid to late second century);
  • We do not know what sources were used for their narratives and sayings (short of some episodes and speeches being clear adaptations of Old Testament writings).

New Testament scholars long relied upon what they called “criteria of authenticity” to try to establish strong probabilities for the historical veracity of certain details but that method is alien to the methods used by other historians. Example:

  • If an episode points to a negative act by a Church hero such as Peter’s denial of Jesus, it is likely to be true – “the criterion of embarrassment”.

Such methods have long been dismissed as logically fallacious by other historians and are finally being acknowledged as flawed by New Testament scholars. In the case of the above example, it is reasonable to imagine the embarrassing story is created to encourage other followers that know that God can forgive and rehabilitate those who are weak and fall.

Some New Testament scholars have turned away from the criteria of embarrassment and have turned to “memory theory” instead. But again, we are in the realm of circularity: we begin with the assumption that there is a historical event that has spawned the Gospel narrative, but we believe that there is a historical event at the start because we we can see “how it has been modified” by various interests before reaching the Gospel author.

We can hypothesize how Gospel stories originated, that they came to the authors by means of oral traditions, but hypotheses can never be more than hypotheses unless we can find indisputable evidence that lifts them beyond that status.

My approach to reading the Gospels is through the acknowledgement of these realities. This perspective is grounded in the all but taken for granted approach of historians who undertake research into other times and places. As long as certain questions about the source documents remain open those documents cannot be read or used in the same way as sources for which those questions are definitively answered.

This is not hyper-scepticism or straining to be some sort of contrarian. It is acknowledgment of the realities about our sources.

 

 

 


2023-08-30

The Cradle Rocks Above an Abyss

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by Neil Godfrey

There is much in Costica Bradatan’s In Praise of Failure that I would like over time to address but let’s begin with the portion of Prologue that I quoted yesterday:

. . . . human existence is something that happens, briefly, between two instantiations of nothingness. Nothing first—dense, impenetrable nothingness. Then a flickering. Then nothing again, endlessly. “A brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness,” as Vladimir Nabokov would have it. . . . 

That remark followed from his description of the feeling that we imagine would follow from surviving what at the time felt like plummeting to a certain death. I was reminded of that feeling from a real-life experience when I listened to the news last night about the death of the commander of 108 men who had fought off an attack of a 2500 strong enemy in the battle of Long Tan in 1966. He was quoted as having said that it was only a short time after the three hour battle that the full realization that he was “still alive” fell upon him.

I turned to the source of Bradatan’s quote. Here it is in (disturbingly colourful) context:

The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness. Although the two are identical twins, man, as a rule, views the prenatal abyss with more calm than the one he is heading for (at some forty-five hundred heartbeats an hour). I know, however, of a young chronophobiac who experienced something like panic when looking for the first time at homemade movies that had been taken a few weeks before his birth. He saw a world that was practically unchanged— the same house, the same people—and then realized that he did not exist there at all and that nobody mourned his absence. He caught a glimpse of his mother waving from an upstairs window, and that unfamiliar gesture disturbed him, as if it were some mysterious farewell. But what particularly frightened him was the sight of a brand-new baby carriage standing there on the porch, with the smug, encroaching air of a coffin; even that was empty, as if, in the reverse course of events, his very bones had disintegrated.

As I quoted yesterday, Bradatan sees our “myths, religion, spirituality, philosophy, science, works of art and literature” as products of our efforts to make an “unbearable fact a little more bearable.” Continuing that thought, he writes,

One way to get around this is to deny the predicament altogether. It’s the optimistic, closed-eye way. Our condition, this line goes, is not that precarious after all. In some mythical narratives, we live elsewhere before we are born here, and we will reincarnate again after we die. Some religions go one step further and promise us life eternal. It’s good business, apparently, as takers have never been in short supply. More recently, something called transhumanism has entered this crowded market. The priests of the new cult swear that, with the right gadgets and technical adjustments (and the right bank accounts), human life will be prolonged indefinitely. Other immortality projects are likely to do just as well, for our mortality problem is unlikely to be resolved.

But this approach is not for everyone…

No matter how many of us buy into religion’s promise of life eternal, however, there will always be some who remain unpersuaded. As for the transhumanists, they may know the future, but they seem largely ignorant of the past: “human enhancement” products have, under different labels, been on the market at least since the passing of Enkidu of Gilgamesh fame. Compared with what the medieval alchemists had to offer, the transhumanists’ wares seem rather bland. Yet thousands of years of life prolongation efforts haven’t put death out of business. We may live longer lives today, but we still die eventually.

Simone Weil (Wikipedia photo)

The Bullfighting way?

Bradatan finds himself siding with the views of Simone Weil:

Another way to deal with our next-to-nothingness is to confront it head-on, the bullfighting way: no escape routes, no safety nets, no sugarcoating. You just plow ahead, eyes wide open, always aware of what’s there: nothing. Remember the naked facts of our condition: nothing ahead and nothing behind. If you happen to obsess over your next-to-nothingness and cannot buy into the life eternal promised by religion or afford a biotechnologically prolonged life, this may be “right for you. Certainly, the bullfighting way is neither easy nor gentle—particularly for the bull. For that’s what we are, after all: the bull, waiting to be done in, not the bullfighter, who does the crushing and then goes on his way.

Hardly a higher form of human knowledge . . .

* Quoted in David McLellan, Utopian Pessimist: The Life and Thought of Simone Weil (New York: Poseidon Press, 1990), 93.

Human beings are so made,” writes Simone Weil, that “the ones who do the crushing feel nothing; it is the person crushed who feels what is happening.”* Pessimistic as this may sound, there is hardly a higher form of human knowledge than the one that allows us to understand what is happening—to see things as they are, as opposed to how we would like them to be. Besides, an uncompromising pessimism is superbly feasible. Given the first commandment of the pessimist (“Whenever in doubt, assume the worst!”), you will never be taken by surprise. Whatever happens on the way, however bad, will not put you off balance. For this reason, those who approach their next-to-nothingness with open eyes manage to live lives of composure and equanimity, and rarely complain. The worst thing that could befall them is exactly what they have expected.

Above all, the eyes-wide-open approach allows us to extricate ourselves, with some dignity, from the entanglement that is human existence. Life is a chronic, addictive sickness, and we are in bad need of a cure.

The bolding is my own. I think that is worth taking in …. “there is hardly a higher form of human knowledge than the one that allows us to understand what is happening – to see things as they are”.

Somewhere in there we can find the real gift that can come from failure, or from the humility that it brings.


Bradatan, Costica. In Praise of Failure: Four Lessons in Humility. Cambridge, Massachusetts: *Harvard University Press, 2023.