2: Historiography: The Tools and Rules of the Discipline
2
Historiography: The Tools and Rules of the Discipline
As argued in the foregoing chapter, scholars of differing schools of thought, including even more skeptical researchers, generally agree that historians have the means at their disposal to investigate events in the past. There are of course differences over questions pertaining to how much history can be established as having actually occurred. Since some allow the possibility of discovering more facts than others, we need to inquire how such conclusions are reached. But simply that professional historians as a whole most commonly recognize many of the potential methods is definitely noteworthy, especially since this conclusion reaches across the table and includes those who are realists, idealists, and postmodernists, along with other skeptics. It gives us a strong starting point.
Given that there is plenty of work to do in these areas, how would the actual spadework carry on in such research? What sort of data is needed? What are the tools that these professionals use and how do they actually employ them? And what are the rules for employing these instruments? How are appropriate conclusions determined? The historical process and how it proceeds is the chief subject in this chapter, particularly with regard to the appropriate tools and rules of the trade.
The Tools of Historical Research and Investigation
How does someone ascertain what happened in the past? What is the actual process of gathering historical data? How does one actually do the work of the historian? And how is such research accomplished?
Whether or not past events actually occurred often can be ascertained by a careful investigation of the available data. The historian can inspect the relevant data in many forms, including eyewitness testimony (like lectures, interviews, and in more recent times, video and audio interviews), tradition (both written and oral), printed or written documents (on materials such as papyri, vellum, or paper), and archaeological sources (materials from excavations, structures, instruments, weapons, coins, and other artifacts).1 It is upon such confirmation that the historian must then build her case. Tools such as these encompass the working parameters of historical research.2
When this research is completed, the existing body of data is not automatically or naively recognized as consisting of true accounts and then pronounced as such. This is especially the case where existing lines of evidence clash. So the historian must critically sift the available findings to ascertain their accuracy as closely as possible. This is done by applying the various principles of historical, literary, and other forms of criticism to the data, posing alternative explanations, and posing many questions along the way.
The bottom-line results are determined by considerations such as which conclusions best fit the evidence. This is the normal process of historiography.3 Choices are made based on the entire project as the historian makes an inference to the best explanation or chooses the most probable conclusion.
Of course, historical data must exist and be obtainable if the historian is to scrutinize the past. This information is often divided into two varieties: primary and secondary sources. Primary materials “are underived, firsthand, or contemporary with the event” and are therefore much more crucial.4 These may consist of various types of early or eyewitness testimony.
Secondary materials are still helpful as they may provide different angles on the primary sources regarding past persons and events. These may include items such as textbooks, monographs, edited volumes, and syllabi. These may help elucidate and expand upon the primary materials. However, there could be some conflicts as well.
Primary sources may comprise both literary and nonliterary remains. The literary remains include written documents of either an official or unofficial nature. Pliny the Younger’s famous correspondence, penned while he was a Roman governor in Asia Minor during the early second century AD, is an example of literature composed by a state official or representative.5 An unofficial primary document would include informal works of a firsthand nature, such as books, newspapers, journals, or periodicals. One example is Julius Caesar’s accounts of his battles in Gaul, written before his rule in first century BC Rome.6 Another is George Armstrong Custer’s series of articles that he wrote for Galaxy magazine from 1872 to 1874 that were later issued as a book.7
Documents written or coauthored by the eyewitnesses, interviews with them, or texts that otherwise still involve or reflect their influences are, of course, extremely important in historical study whenever they are available. Generally, the further we go back into the past, the rarer these sources become.8 An example of such eyewitness sources is published interviews from the 1940s and 1950s with still-living American Civil War veterans.9 Literary remains are also found in sources other than papyrus or paper, such as inscriptions found on stone, metal, or other materials (termed epigraphy).10
Primary nonliterary remains would include items such as video or audio recordings obtained directly or indirectly from eyewitness interviews, oral tradition, photographs, and archaeological artifacts. Eyewitness testimony in the form of recorded interviews obviously cannot extend very far beyond 100 years. Tradition, both oral as well as written, may date into antiquity, including sources like reports, heroic stories, legends, and ballads. At one end of the spectrum, traditions grounded in trustworthy eyewitness testimony or other early reports might be based on crucial and reliable sources. At the other end, however, legends such as the stories of George Washington chopping down the cherry tree or some of Davy Crockett’s exploits indicate clearly that not all such rumors turn out to be reliable! The weakness with these sorts of tradition is that it is unknown whether they are reliable and not simply hearsay or storytelling.11
Archaeological artifacts can be especially valuable witnesses to our past, even though they often play an auxillary role. Remains such as architecture, monuments, grave sites, burial chambers, furniture, artwork, clothes, coins, jewelry, tools, or other implements can often help determine customs, cultural background, and even historical events. Prime instances include what can be learned from Jewish burial chambers, including very specific data concerning burial customs, the physical characteristics of the persons of that time, as well as the varieties of death they suffered.
One enormous archaeological example is the Shroud of Turin. As long as it is an actual archaeological artifact rather than a fake, which seems quite assured in light of the most recent scientific research, it can tell us dozens of things about the physical process of death by Roman crucifixion. This is the case whether or not it ever belonged to Jesus. Of course, if it was actually Jesus’s burial garment, then it is probably the most valuable object on the entire earth.
Another archaeological find of colossal proportions is the Dead Sea Scrolls discovered in excavations of the environs of the Qumran community near the Dead Sea in 1947. In addition to the scrolls themselves, which of course were the biggest prize of this discovery, numerous other facts emerged from about the time of Jesus regarding the ascetic and communal lifestyle of the sectarian Essenes. Excavations in Greek cities such as Athens, Corinth, and Ephesus have also provided invaluable evidence concerning the art, religious beliefs, and lifestyle of these ancient cultures.
Gathering primary and secondary sources does not complete the historical study. Once again, the historian cannot automatically conclude that the collection of data is synonymous with having discovered the data itself. Rather, these sources also must be organized and subjected to various kinds of criticism before conclusions can be drawn.12 In the case of written documents, both external and internal historical and literary criticism, in particular, is implemented regarding the texts.
External criticism is applied for the purpose of examining the writing itself and is composed of two types. Higher criticism assesses the authenticity of the document regarding features like its authorship, date and place of composition, context, audience, and motives for writing. It also asks whether the textual claims are trustworthy and whether a text contains solid indications of corresponding to what we know about the subject from other sources.
Lower criticism concerns the question of the extent to which we essentially have the text as it was originally composed. Lower criticism asks: Do we know what the original author wrote? It chiefly involves questions of manuscript evidence: the dates of our existing copies, their comparison to the originals (which we do not possess) as well as their relation to each other, and the presence of any documentary interpolations or omissions.
Both external and internal factors help in assessing a document’s overall reliability. This includes determining the accuracy, character, and competence of the author as well as his ability to separate the facts from his feelings, opinions, or other subjective distortions.
For unwritten sources, such as oral traditions, sermons, or hymnic materials, criticism can take such forms as ascertaining as closely as possible the original date and stages of composition, the source of the material, its accuracy, and so on. The testing of eyewitness interviews may follow lines of criticism closer to those used for documentary sources, complete with external and internal phases, including the identity and reputation of the source, the date of the testimony, its credibility and accuracy, and whether it has been modified by time or circumstances. In the case of archaeological artifacts, the use of dating methods, other scientific procedures such as chemical analyses or nondestructive testing, and comparisons to relevant written accounts can be exceptionally helpful.
After the historian collects her materials, organizes them, and applies both external and internal criticism, she is well on her way in the process of preparing and formulating her conclusions. The results should include all the known data and provide the most comprehensive and likely judgment possible on the issues. Presenting the data might come in the form of journal articles, books, or papers presented at professional conferences. The outcome is then open to careful peer review and scrutiny from other scholars, which should prompt the cautious historian to be able to defend the results based on the factual data available.13
In sum, the historical tools are the materials with which the historian must work to accomplish her goals regarding the sifting of past remains so as to present the most likely scenarios. Whether eyewitness reports, traditions of various sorts, written or printed records, or archaeological artifacts, these sources of information are exceptionally vital data upon which sometimes crucial decisions are rendered.
Historical Rules: Applying the Tools
Now the question concerns how to actually apply these tools in such a manner so as to discover the likelihood of locating historical facts. Historians take different paths on moving from the tools to the rules. Of those we could discuss, we will concentrate primarily on the “critical criteria” that historians, New Testament specialists, as well as other scholars apply to the texts which they are studying.14
We have pointed out that more conservative scholars will often gravitate to the more traditional paths that indicate that the New Testament texts are reliable. Undoubtedly, many worthwhile insights emerge from these data. Textual attestation of various sorts brings us very close to the original writing, while authorship, extrabiblical sources, and various types of historical confirmation all contribute to the accuracy of the reports.
On the other hand, critical scholars tend to approach the biblical writings from other angles. While they often recognize the value of a number of these traditional insights, recent scholars tend not to be so interested in the overall reliability of the New Testament texts. Their work is based largely on the twin assumptions that the various writings differ in historical value and that, even within each composition, there is a mixture of worthwhile and questionable material.15 Eschewing considerations in favor of the trustworthiness of the entire corpus, then, they concentrate on individual authors, such as Paul, and specific passages.
We might liken this latter critical technique to that of the bricklayer who builds a wall from the ground up, piece by piece, utilizing each unit individually. The entire effort, however, remains one of arranging the separate bricks into a coherent whole, each working together, contributing to the new picture that emerges.
Two Historical Research Methods
Two commonly mentioned methods in historical investigation (and in other research subjects too) that frequently overlap are induction and abduction (with the latter also being called “inference to the best explanation”). After gathering the relevant material, both of these avenues utilize research data and attempt to discern, respectively, the most likely or the best explanation for what is known. Each potential hypothesis is investigated for its ability to decipher these data most capably.
The inductive approaches sometimes employ probabilities, like those in Bayes’ Theorem calculations. Abduction applies conditions such as explanatory scope, explanatory power, plausibility, less ad hoc, and conformity to other beliefs. A number of these and similar applications are implicit throughout the investigation that follows in these volumes, beginning with the next section, below, on the historical criteria applied to the New Testament and elsewhere. Many items within these parameters have special applications to the minimal facts argument.
The strategies preferred by critical scholars have actually produced many exciting gems to explore and excavate. Though often independent from the more traditional devices, these treasures can add additional strength to the historical picture of Jesus. Some of these assets are powerful tools that can be utilized in more than one way. For instance, they can add more specific components to the general techniques preferred by many conservatives. For more skeptical researchers who employ only the individual facts (i.e., the bricks) method, this is the only way to proceed.
Several of these critical strategies will be explored throughout our study of the death and resurrection of Jesus. In this chapter we will pursue a little further an avenue that contributes very nicely to our gaining new knowledge of the individual items.16 The textual criteria of authenticity are the rules that support the likelihood of particular sayings or events in history, in this case, from the life of Jesus. The results are not all of the same level of assurance, in that some are more or less probable than others.17
It should also be cautioned that these criteria need to be viewed more as individual epistemic indicators in the sense of providing certain reasons for the probability of particular candidates for historicity. They do not indicate that other less-endowed items are therefore unhistorical. Rather, the others without such backup actually could be historical as well, even though they are not accompanied by these specific reasons for judging this to be the case.18 Thus, these more rigorous tests may be applied especially in the case where more critical details are needed or desired. This illustrates how the criteria of authenticity can come to the aid of either methodology—the general or the specific methods.
Recent critical scholars tend to apply various analytical principles to the New Testament text to ascertain which individual portions have the highest likelihood of providing legitimate historical insights. Implementing these standards can isolate portions or texts, providing the separate insights.
These methods, as applied by contemporary biblical scholars, were actually borrowed from the approaches employed regularly by secular historians. But seldom does one find a complete listing of these principles anywhere, perhaps due at least partially to personal preferences, as each scholar naturally favors some of these criteria over others. We will provide here a brief inventory of a number of these criteria of authenticity that are regularly applied to the Gospel material as well as a few critical comments along the way. Examples of the rules from both secular and biblical scholars should help in identifying the principle as well as some of its benefits.
Enumerating the Criteria of Authenticity
Although not usually listed among the authenticity criteria per se, we will begin this list with two crucially important principles, perhaps even the most essential tools of all in terms of historiography. These are well recognized by historians both in ancient as well as in modern times.
(1) In general, early sources and other evidences are strongly preferred over later data. While greater intervening differences are allowed, especially in ancient history, even the difference of a decade or two can be decisive. Of course, earlier sources can always be mistaken too, for several reasons. But we are dealing with probabilities here, so all things considered, we are usually far better off with the earlier reports.
With application to the historical Jesus, any material between AD 30 and 50 would be regarded as being especially exemplary, a time period highly preferred by all scholars as pointed out, for example, in the principles followed by the Jesus Seminar.19 Reports from such an early time frame would actually predate the written form of the four canonical Gospels, or any other such writings for that matter. A celebrated instance is the early pre-Pauline list of Jesus’s resurrection appearances that the apostle Paul delivers to his readers in 1 Cor 15:3–8. The consensus critical position is that Paul very probably received at least the material on which this early tradition is based, and more likely the creed itself, in the early to mid-30s.20
Other exceptionally early examples include the brief sermon summaries that many scholars think are embedded within the Book of Acts and may date to AD 30–40,21 as well as other ancient creedal traditions found in the New Testament Epistles.22 The Q material found in the first and third Gospels, along with Synoptic sources favored by many scholars, such as the pre-Markan Passion Narrative, are also deemed to date perhaps from AD 50–60 as well.23 Further, Paul’s earliest “authentic” epistles date no later than the 50s.24
(2) Whenever these early sources are derived from the eyewitnesses themselves who actually participated in some of the events, or where the formation of the sources was at least guided by eyewitness testimony, this probably provides the strongest evidence possible. Like early testimony, we know that eyewitness reports can also be mistaken.25 But for that reason alone, we would hardly trade eyewitnesses for others who reported what they heard secondhand! Historian David Hackett Fischer dubs these data “the rule of immediacy” and terms them “the best relevant evidence.”26 When scholars have ancient sources that are both very early and based on eyewitness testimony, they have a combination that is very difficult to dismiss.27
One reason critical scholars take Paul’s testimony so seriously is that his writings provide both early as well as eyewitness testimony to what he believed was a resurrection appearance of Jesus. Further, Paul was a scholar trained in the Jewish law and knew other apostles, such as Peter, John, and James the brother of Jesus (see Gal 1:18–2:10). He was in the right place, at the right time, discussing the truth of the central message in Christianity: the gospel. This is even conceded by atheist philosopher Michael Martin as well as other critical scholars.28
(3) Multiple attestation of a report derived from more than one independent source is another chief indication that a particular claim certainly may be factual.29 As historian of antiquity Paul Maier attests, “Many facts from antiquity rest on just one ancient source, while two or three sources in agreement generally render the fact unimpeachable.”30 Even the Jesus Seminar emphasizes items that are “attested in two or more independent sources.”31
Several significant instances may be mentioned just briefly here. Of the five independent sources often recognized in the Gospel accounts—Mark, the Q sayings, the material unique to Matthew (M), the material unique to Luke (L), and John—Jesus’s miracles are reported in all five layers, with some specific miracle claims being included in more than one of the sources.32 Jesus’s crucial “Son of Man” statements are also confirmed in all five Gospel sources.33 On the other hand, the story of the empty tomb is reported in at least three, if not four, of the Gospel sources.34 Indications such as these help us to understand why these significant teachings and events reported in Jesus’s life are taken so seriously by contemporary critical scholars.
(4) A rather skeptical criterion of authenticity is termed dissimilarity, discontinuity, or even double dissimilarity. It has long been utilized as a very popular tool for determining the historicity of some of Jesus’s teachings and actions. The central idea is that a particular saying may be attributed to someone only if it cannot plausibly be accounted for as also being the words or teachings of other roughly contemporary sources. In the case of Jesus, it must be determined if the teachings that have been attributed to him in the Gospels could plausibly have been derived from either prior Jewish thought or from early church exhortations. The latter might indicate that sayings of Jesus were possibly constructed anew to settle an early theological dispute or political or ethical issue, expand a teaching, or relate extraordinary events which would increase Jesus’s stature. Accordingly, historian of antiquity Michael Grant refers to this test as “our principal valid method of research.”35
It has already been mentioned above that Jesus’s “Son of Man” sayings are multiply attested in all five Gospel sources. In a well-known application of the principle of dissimilarity, it can also be shown that this terminology is unaccounted for by either Jewish or early Christian teachings. This is a powerful one-two punch! At least some Jews did have a “Son of Man” concept in writings dating from about this same time.36 But, of course, these non-Christian Jewish sources would hardly have applied this appellation to Jesus. And while “Son of Man” is Jesus’s favorite self-designation in the Synoptic Gospels, very surprisingly it is not used to refer to Jesus in any of the New Testament Epistles even a single time!37 For whatever reasons, then, this certainly seems like a clear indication that the early church was already addressing Jesus in other ways. So the regular conclusion is that, in all likelihood, Jesus probably used this designation for himself.38
The criterion of dissimilarity has frequently received its share of criticism over the years. A common complaint is that it presents a rather sterile Jesus since, although rather anachronistically, it presents a Jewish-Christian teacher who, as it were, cannot truly be recognized as either Jewish or “Christian.” In other words, it is far too strict and skeptical of a standard. From another angle, how strong would our research be if, in studying the teachings and actions of almost any historical person, we were not allowed to count anything that was attributed to them until we first subtracted all the comments that someone else from their religion, culture, family, and closest group of contacts could have taught? Furthermore, what great religious teacher did not build and expand upon the ideas, customs, teachings, and actions of his or her time, with it still being his or her own adaptations? If this criterion is applied too rigorously, such teachers could hardly be seen and studied as persons of their own generation.
However, it could be countered that this response misses the mark. The purpose of this criterion is actually epistemic in nature. It does not aim to separate Jesus or anyone else from his culture and surroundings. It does not maintain that Jesus’s teachings and actions had nothing in common with either his fellow Jews or with his followers that would later be called Christians. Rather, it asserts simply that these more unique and singular elements are the ones of which we can be the most assured that they are indeed Jesus’s own teachings and actions. Again, the criterion is not meant to present an exhaustive account of all that Jesus both said and did, but rather to single out those distinctives which we can know reasonably well were his.
(5) Particularly applicable to the historical Jesus, another criterion often applied to Gospel studies is the presence of Aramaic words, substrata, environment, or other indications of a Palestinian origin. Since it is generally agreed that Jesus spoke Aramaic, when these linguistic conditions appear in the Gospels, we stand a good chance of looking through a window into the actual teachings of Jesus. Additionally, it is perhaps no coincidence that these Aramaic terms often break into the Gospel text at some of the most crucial and incredible places—such as Jesus raising a girl from the dead (Mark 5:41), in Jesus’s healing ministry (Mark 10:46, 51), or with regard to major teachings as with Jesus referring to God as “Abba” (Mark 14:36). As a result, some conclude that these occasions mark places where the author or the church itself would most probably have wanted to preserve the exactness of the occasion, and would actually give us the best chance of viewing the ipsissima verba of Jesus himself during these moments.
One major study from German New Testament scholar Joachim Jeremias’s well-known and highly influential research explores whether Jesus actually utilized the Aramaic word Abba as a reference to God (Mark 14:36).39 While Jeremias’s conclusions have been qualified somewhat, most of the force still remains, and we have an instance here where Jesus probably employed a very unusual term that was very rarely if ever applied to God in Jewish usage.40 As such, this word would best be understood as a familiar, personal, and even intimate reference of Jesus toward his Father.
Sometimes researchers consider the criteria of authenticity in terms of major and minor benchmarks. There remains much general agreement regarding the chief yardsticks just mentioned above, but there can be fairly wide amounts of divergence.41 Scholars do not always reach the same conclusions regarding how far to promote the remaining criteria; some think they deserve equal billing, while others demote them a bit. Still, historical details from Jesus’s life can be enhanced by these additional considerations as well.
(6) The principle of embarrassment, negative report, or surprise is indicated by the presence of disparaging or very surprising remarks made by the author about himself or herself, another individual, or an event toward which the author is friendly or has a vested interest.42 The point is that, in normal circumstances, most people would need a sufficient reason to give a very negative report concerning things they deem to be valuable or about someone whom they love dearly. This would appear to be the case especially in examples that present someone in a negative light, especially when the main purpose of the writing is to instruct the readers in holy and proper living.
Many instances of the principle of embarrassment are presented in the pages of the Gospels. Few are harder hitting than the strong unbelief of James, Jesus’s own brother, and the rest of Jesus’s family. Before the crucifixion, they thought that Jesus was mentally unbalanced (Mark 3:20–25; John 7:5). This report (especially Mark 3:21) begs for an adequate cause for exposing these reports regarding the apostle James, known as a pious leader in the early church. This is why the majority of recent critical scholars believe these are authentic reports.43
Another striking example is Jesus’s statement in Mark 13:32. In the very same context where he indicates that he is the Son of the Father, he goes on to declare that he does not even know the time of his coming. Would not the Son of God know something about the future, and why say this in the same context of an important theological point when the comment raises so many questions? To further drive home this last point, British theologian Donald Guthrie declares what many are thinking when he states that this comment about Jesus is simply too embarrassing to have been invented, hence its authenticity should not be questioned.44
Perhaps the best known of these embarrassing contexts is the report found in all four Gospels that women were the first ones to discover that Jesus’s burial tomb was empty. It was uncustomary in antiquity for women to testify in a law court, especially concerning crucial matters. This indicates that the desire of the early church to tell the truth outweighed the temptation to put their best evidential foot forward.45
Lastly, the repeated statements of unbelief and other negative reactions reported about the disciples, both when Jesus predicted his impending resurrection before it occurred,46 as well as after Jesus had risen from the dead,47 are further indications that they actually did react in this manner. Otherwise, what would have been a more compelling reason as to why the disciples, who were leaders of the early church by the time of these writings, would be willingly placed in such a negative light?48
(7) The criterion of enemy attestation is satisfied when an antagonistic source expresses agreement concerning a person or event when it is contrary to their best interests. An example of a strong commendation is given by historian Paul Maier: “Such positive evidence within a hostile source is the strongest kind of evidence . . . if Cicero, who despised Catiline, admitted that the fellow had one good quality—courage—among a host of bad ones then the historian correctly concludes that Catiline was at least courageous.”49
In the case of Jesus’s miracles, a strong example of enemy attestation is provided by the repeated Gospel testimony that those who opposed Jesus’s supernatural healings either witnessed these acts and failed to challenge them (Mark 3:1–6) or attributed them to Satan (Mark 3:22–27). In the process, they thereby acknowledged the authors’ view that these events had actually occurred. Marcus Borg points out that this is one of the reasons that makes it “virtually indisputable” that Jesus healed and exorcised demons.50 In a last example, the Jewish priests reportedly paid the guards at Jesus’s tomb to have them report that the disciples stole Jesus’s body (Matt 28:11–15), once again agreeing that Jesus’s tomb had been discovered empty.
(8) Coherence is a less specific criterion. If a purported event or teaching fits well with another account that already has one or more reasons in favor of accepting its historicity, then this raises the odds that the initial occurrence or teaching is also historical.51 The proposed event or saying may even do more by illuminating the other known incidents and rendering them more intelligible.52
For John Meier, coherence is one of the very best indicators of the content and truth of Jesus’s teachings. As an example, Meier thinks that Jesus’s teaching in Mark 12:18–27 regarding the resurrection of the dead conforms well to the Q saying of Jesus on the same subject of the afterlife in Matt 8:11–12//Luke 13:28–29 as well as with other teachings of Jesus.53 Meier concludes that another instance, the Gospel teaching that Jesus’s family had rejected him, agrees well with Jesus’s repeated teaching that believers will be called to leave their own families for his sake and that of his kingdom (e.g., Mark 10:29–31).54
Of all the criteria of authenticity, it has always seemed to me that coherence is probably the single weakest one, Meier’s commendations aside.55 Assume that we have two sayings, the first of which is evidenced and the second basically un-accompanied by specific, individual reasons for confirmation. It could be the case that they are similarly enough structured in theme, language, and actual content that we might be tempted to think there is sufficient warrant for concluding that they are separate, genuine teachings. Of course, that could be a correct conclusion. But some critical scholars would also no doubt charge that the author may simply have repeated a similar refrain, or even invented the second saying outright, depending on other characteristics.
Periodically throughout this treatment, we have noted that some criteria, such as discontinuity, are epistemically motivated. That is, it concentrates not on the question of what could be authentic, but rather how we know that such and such is in fact the case. It seems here that it is in this sense that coherence is epistemically challenged. If warrant can be found for the second saying, so be it; then coherence is almost superfluous. But what we have here is the classic issue with any sort of coherence claims. The two texts are indeed similar and cohere nicely with one another. But hanging together well does not necessarily establish the second saying as justified in itself. Perhaps the solution is to employ the suggestion by Dale Allison and simply conclude that the second saying or event is best deemed as “possibly authentic.”56 Perhaps that is enough to count it accordingly among the potential sayings in our list, since our overall effort is probabilistic anyway.
Critical criteria such as those that we have discussed above are very helpful in establishing the likely historicity of separate Gospel accounts. These principles certainly have their place. Viewing texts from these evidenced angles helps us to realize that many of Jesus’s stories and sayings are historically grounded. We will add the minimal facts component of the argument in later chapters when we deal with the specific historical data of the death and resurrection of Jesus.
Conclusion
The previous chapter discussed more theoretical surveys of the philosophy of history before moving here to implementing the historical method. We have been chiefly interested in whether we could know that particular events have occurred in the past. The next chapter will address a skeptical rejoinder that challenges these views.
In this chapter we outlined a more practical approach: if historical facts are knowable and recognizable within the proper parameters, how might they best be uncovered? To that end, the “rules and tools” at the historian’s disposal were discussed as they attempt to move from the available primary and secondary sources to uncover what is most likely the accurate knowledge of past history. Most scholars agree with this conclusion, which Cairns summarizes as follows: “Through scientific study of his artifacts and documents, the historian can be reasonably certain concerning an event. There is a surprising amount of consensus among historians on the basic facts and on many conclusions about the past.”57 It is within the pursuit of these goals that we will seek to address the historicity of Jesus, particularly regarding the last days of his life, and to ascertain the best data surrounding his death and resurrection.
Notes
1 There is comparatively little disagreement among historians regarding the nature and usefulness of what we have termed the “tools” of research, regardless of their outlooks on the nature of historiography. Realists and moderates of various stripes are clear about similar lists of tools and their leading to historical conclusions: see C. Behan McCullagh, The Truth of History (New York: Routledge, 1998), esp. chaps. 1, 3; Fischer, Historians’ Fallacies, 62–63 in particular (see chap. 1, n. 37); Walsh, Philosophy of History, 17–18 (see chap. 1, n. 21); Kelly, Truth Considered and Applied, 216–17, 250–54 (see chap. 1, n. 15); Tosh, Pursuit of History, esp. chap. 3 (see chap. 1, n. 24); Gilderhus, History and Historians, 116 (see chap. 1, n. 6); Cairns, God and Man in Time, 34–41 (see chap. 1, n. 52). Even skeptical historians recognize the value of such tools: Croce, “History and Chronicle,” 226–30 (see chap. 1, n. 56); Collingwood, Idea of History, 246–47, 257 (see chap. 1, n. 56); Foucault, Archaeology of Knowledge, 149–65, 195 (see chap. 1, n. 68); N. T. Wright, History and Eschatology: Jesus and the Promise of Natural Theology (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2019), 81–83, 96.
2 Walsh, Philosophy of History, 18. One fascinating as well as illuminating instance from the field of military history of how such investigations may be conducted can be found in Delbrück’s methods of determining how ancient battles may have been fought during the Greek and Roman empires. By examining the available historical data, Delbrück successfully obtained information that allowed him to estimate the size of the opposing armies, how they may actually have maneuvered on the battle fields, and other facets regarding these ancient battles. An example of this research is contained in the volume coedited by Edward M. Earle, Gordon A. Craig, and Felix Gilbert, Makers of Modern Strategy: Military Thought from Machiavelli to Hitler (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1943). See esp. 264–68 for Delbrück’s historical techniques.
3 Walsh, Philosophy of History, 18–19.
4 Cairns, God and Man in Time, 34. For further details regarding our discussion below, compare also pages 33–42, though we will diverge from Cairns at various points.
5 Gaius Plinius Caecilius, Letters, trans. William Melmouth, rev. by F. C. T. Bosanquet, Harvard Classics, ed. Charles L. Eliot, part 2 of vol. 9 (New York: P. F. Collier and Son, 1909).
6 Julius Caesar, The Conquest of Gaul, trans. S. A. Handford, Penguin Classics, ed. E. V. Rieu (Harmondsworth, Middlesex, UK: Penguin, 1951).
7 George Armstrong Custer, My Life on the Plains, ed. Milo Milton Quaife (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1952, 1966).
8 Even so, for the ancients, eyewitness testimony was also valued significantly. See Breisach, Historiography, 38 (see chap. 1, n. 24).
9 See the fascinating accounts included in Otto Eisenschiml and Ralph Newman, Eyewitness: The Civil War as We Lived It (New York: Grosset and Dunlap, 1956).
10 For example, the so-called Nazareth Decree is a Greek inscription on a marble block discovered in the city of Nazareth that warns against the destruction or robbing of graves or tombs. For the text, see Paul L. Maier, First Easter: The True and Unfamiliar Story (New York: Harper & Row, 1973), 119–20.
11 Regarding Davy Crockett, both reliable and unreliable details may be found in the same source. For details, see Davy Crockett’s autobiography, A Narrative of the Life of David Crockett of the State of Tennessee, intro. Paul Andrew Hutton (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1987). For some of the “tall tales” concerning the exploits of Davy Crockett, see Hutton’s examples on xxxvii–xxxix, xliii–xliv. An amazing example of how contemporary historical research can sometimes set straight the original sources themselves can be found in Hutton’s corrections on xi–xii.
12 For details of Cairns’s treatment here, see God and Man in Time, chap. 2.
13 Michael R. Licona, The Resurrection of Jesus: A New Historiographical Approach (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Academic, 2010), 54–56.
14 Since this volume is not primarily concerned with overviews of the philosophy of history and historiography per se, we will limit our treatment of the “rules” to this chief approach. But it should be noted that in the chapters below, along with these criteria, we will also be pursuing the “minimal facts method,” making use of the best-evidenced data to argue the case for the death and resurrection of Jesus. That these factual considerations are accepted virtually unanimously by scholars in relevant fields of study provides some common ground for discussion.
15 Dale Allison provides such a distinction when he writes, “Although the gospels contain mythical elements, they are not on the whole mythological constructs.” See Allison, The Resurrection of Jesus: Apologetics, Criticism, History (London: Bloomsbury, 2021), 21. Bart Ehrman states concerning the Gospels, “Whatever one thinks of them as inspired scripture, they can be seen and used as significant historical sources . . . not because ‘the Gospels say so.’” Ehrman, Did Jesus Exist? The Historical Argument for Jesus of Nazareth (New York: HarperCollins, 2012), 74.
16 For details concerning several of these criteria as used by scholars, in addition to outlining a few other critical approaches, see Gary R. Habermas, “Why I Believe the New Testament Is Historically Reliable,” in Why I Am a Christian: Leading Thinkers Explain Why they Believe, ed. Norman L. Geisler and Paul K. Hoffman (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), chap. 9; Habermas, “Recent Perspectives on the Reliability of the Gospels,” Christian Research Journal 28 (2005).
17 Or even, as suggested by Dale Allison, perhaps we should also be more willing to employ conclusions such as this saying or event being “possibly authentic.” See Dale C. Allison Jr., “How to Marginalize the Traditional Criteria of Authenticity,” in How to Study the Historical Jesus, vol. 1 of Handbook for the Study of the Historical Jesus, ed. Tom Holmén and Stanley E. Porter (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 30.
18 Or, if a researcher considers that a particular text is already generally reliable in the overarching sense that we have discussed, she might even conclude that while the entire document is hence trustworthy in some (perhaps even lesser) sense, more particular support exists for several of the specifics within the whole.
19 This is the first of “The Rules of Oral Evidence,” emphasized by Robert W. Funk, Roy W. Hoover, and the Jesus Seminar in The Five Gospels: The Search for the Authentic Words of Jesus (New York: Macmillan, 1993), 25–26.
20 This topic is addressed below in detail. Cf. Funk, Hoover, and the Jesus Seminar, Five Gospels, 24, 128.
21 Like Gerald O’Collins, Interpreting Jesus (London: Chapman, 1983), 109.
22 Perhaps the most celebrated work on this subject is Oscar Cullmann’s Earliest Christian Confessions, trans. J. K. S. Reid (London: Lutterworth, 1949). See also C. H. Dodd, The Apostolic Preaching and Its Developments (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1936; repr., Grand Rapids: Baker, 1980).
23 The Jesus Seminar is an instance of a group of scholars dating the Q tradition to AD 50–60. Funk, Hoover, and the Jesus Seminar, Five Gospels, 18, 128.
24 According to Bart D. Ehrman, Introduction to the New Testament, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 44.
25 For some specific details on this subject, see Bauckham, Jesus and the Eyewitnesses, particularly chaps. 11–12 (see chap. 1, n. 25).
26 Fischer, Historians’ Fallacies, 62. Fischer also treats archaeological “remains” as more primary than “direct observations.” For the importance of eyewitness reporting in ancient Greek writing, once again, see Breisach, Historiography, 38–39. For the importance of accuracy in ancient historians, see also Breisach’s comments on Cicero (57–58), Livy (64), Tacitus (67), and Lucian (72–73); cf. 75–76 more generally. For a number of concerns by one of the only ancient historians to address metahistorical issues, see Lucian of Samosata, How to Write History, in Lucian: Volume IV, trans. K. Kilburn, Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1959), including Lucian’s own emphasis on accuracy (9–11, 73), along with the importance of proper perspective and lack of exaggeration or embellishment (7–15, 39–41, 71). Lucian derides the author who wrote as if he had witnessed everything personally about which he had written, including faraway places, though he had not even ventured outside of his own town (43–45)! Lucian also provides the account of Aristobulus, who sought to flatter Alexander the Great “by ascribing falsely to him certain deeds of valor and inventing achievements too great to be true.” An example included Alexander “killing elephants with one throw of the javelin.” Alexander responded by throwing the book into the River Hydaspes on which they were sailing and remarking that he ought to do the same thing to Aristobulus himself (19)! Similar examples from other ancient historians include Thucydides’s assertions about being very careful to record data accurately (book 1.1), such as correcting Herodotus’s details without mentioning him by name (11–13; cf. xxi) and entertaining divergent opinion (book 2.5). See Thucydides, The Peloponnesian Wars, trans. Benjamin Jowett, ed. Hugh R. Trevor-Roper, rev. ed. (New York: Washington Square, 1963). Tacitus also encouraged historians to be neither bitter nor prejudiced in reporting the facts. See his Annals 1.1 in Church and Brodribb, Complete Works of Tacitus (see chap. 1, n. 31). Translator Robert Graves notes that Suetonius received a respectful amount of his historical material from eyewitnesses and checked the reported facts whenever possible without bias; see Graves, “Foreword” to Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus, The Twelve Caesars, trans. Robert Graves (Baltimore: Penguin, 1957), 7.
27 Richard Bauckham’s volume Jesus and the Eyewitnesses may well be the most noteworthy. Also very influential is James D. G. Dunn, Jesus Remembered (see chap. 1, n. 3). Though older, John A. T. Robinson’s text, Can We Trust the New Testament? (see chap. 1, n. 43), likewise provides helpful considerations. Any instances of eyewitness testimony located in the Gospel accounts would potentially contribute additional data not usually counted on in recent discussions.
28 Michael Martin, The Case against Christianity (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1993), 81.
29 Some scholars have additionally proposed multiple attestation of literary forms or patterns as an additional criterion as well, with the idea that various types of genre (e.g., didactic passages, parables, miracle accounts, liturgical texts) probably emerge from different perspectives.
30 Maier, In the Fullness of Time, 197 (see chap. 1, n. 24).
31 Funk, Hoover, and the Jesus Seminar, Five Gospels, 26.
32 Marcus Borg acknowledges that the Gospel attestation of Jesus’s miracles is “widespread” in “our earliest sources.” Jesus: A New Vision: Spirit, Culture, and the Life of Discipleship (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1987), 61, also 59–60. Many specifics and carefully detailed textual arguments can be located in the work of two separate volumes containing almost 500 pages each, devoted to the topic of Jesus’s miracles. See John P. Meier, Marginal Jew, 2:967–70 (see chap. 1, n. 27) for his conclusions, including the multiple attestation of Jesus’s miracles. See also Graham Twelftree, Jesus the Miracle Worker, 328–30, 343–47, 358 for his conclusions (see chap. 1, n. 30) as well as his companion volume, Jesus the Exorcist: A Contribution to the Study of the Historical Jesus (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1993; repr., Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2011). Cf. Eric Eve, “Meier, Miracle and Multiple Attestation,” Journal for the Study of the Historical Jesus 3 (2005): 23–45.
33 For some examples, see Gary R. Habermas, The Risen Jesus and Future Hope (Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield, 2003), 102. For many excellent details in hard-hitting though brief articles by well-credentialed New Testament scholars, see the general essays by Robert Stein (“Jesus Christ,” 629–32) and Royce Gruenler (“Son of Man,” 1127–29) in Evangelical Dictionary of Theology, ed. Walter Elwell, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2001).
34 Habermas, Risen Jesus and Future Hope, 23.
35 Grant, Jesus, 202 (see chap. 1, n. 24). For other scholars who have had similar high views of this criterion, see Norman Perrin, Rediscovering the Teaching of Jesus (New York: Harper & Row, 1967), 39–43, particularly 39; Robert H. Stein, Gospels and Tradition: Studies on Redaction Criticism of the Synoptic Gospels (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1991), 171–77, esp. 176.
36 As seen in passages such as 1 Enoch 46:2; 48:2–5, 10; 52:4; 62:5–9; 69:28–29; 4 Ezra 13:3–52.
37 Outside of the Gospels, the title does appear in Acts 7:56 (with the definite article in the Greek) and in Rev 1:13 (without the definite article). However, in neither instance were the comments spoken by Jesus himself, and in both circumstances Jesus Christ is seen in heavenly, highly exalted visions. Just before Stephen’s martyrdom Jesus is seen standing at the right hand of God, an exceptionally lofty concept especially for a Jew of that time to report (see the Jewish response in Acts 7:57; Mark 14:60–64 is another example, and the Jewish leaders’ response to Jesus on that occasion is quite instructive). In Revelation, it is the exalted, heavenly Christ who stands before John. The point here is that even these two instances are not spoken by Jesus, they refer to him only in his exalted state rather than in his earthly ministry, and they are not found in any of the Epistles—all pointing to this title not being a popular or normal way to refer to Jesus at that time. Hence, these examples make it difficult to conceive of this moniker as the most popular title or name for Jesus in the early church, contrary to what we see in the Synoptic Gospels.
38 See Stein, “Jesus Christ,” 630–31, and Gruenler, “Son of Man,” 1127. John Meier spends some considerable time with another example of discontinuity when contrasting the distinctives of Jesus’s message with those of the Dead Sea community; see Marginal Jew, 3:489–532, 633–36.
39 Joachim Jeremias, The Central Message of the New Testament (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1965), 9–30; cf. Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus, trans. S. H. Hooke, rev. ed. (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1972), 100–114.
40 Even Norman Perrin is much impressed with Jeremias’s research on this point and views this term as a very personal one that a Jewish child might use to refer to his father. Perrin concludes that Jesus did actually use it in reference to God. Perrin also thinks that this Aramaic word fulfills the criterion of dissimilarity. See Perrin, Rediscovering the Teaching of Jesus, 40–41.
41 For example, Perrin cites only three key criteria (Rediscovering the Teaching of Jesus, 37–47) while Stein lists almost a dozen, with some overlap, while still remaining critical of the various applications (Gospels and Tradition, 153–87).
42 Grant, Jesus, 202–3; cf. Funk, Hoover, and the Jesus Seminar, Five Gospels, 23.
43 Further documentation is provided and may be found in Habermas, Risen Jesus and Future Hope, 21–22.
44 See Donald Guthrie, New Testament Theology (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1981), 794n14.
45 Habermas, Risen Jesus and Future Hope, 23–24.
46 Mark 8:31–33; 9:31–32; 10:32–34; 14:27–31.
47 Matt 28:17; Luke 24:36–38; John 20:19, 24–25.
48 For a single example of the many relevant comments that could be adduced here, see Ben F. Meyer, The Aims of Jesus (London: SCM, 1979), 60.
49 Maier, In the Fullness of Time, 198–99.
50 Borg, Jesus: A New Vision, 61.
51 An example is philosopher of history W. B. Gallie’s “Explanations in History and the Genetic Sciences,” in Theories of History, ed. Patrick Gardiner (New York: Macmillan, 1959), 397–98; Perrin pursues the idea in relation to critical New Testament research; see Perrin, Rediscovering the Teaching of Jesus, 43–45.
52 Licona, The Resurrection of Jesus, 111.
53 Meier, Marginal Jew, esp. 3:437–44.
54 Meier, 3:69, 72.
55 Although due to Meier’s stature, this alone might give a little pause here!
56 Allison, “Traditional Criteria of Authenticity,” 30.
57 Cairns, God and Man in Time, 97.