Monday, December 1, 2014

Chapter One: The Target and the Arrows


 [This is an ongoing project that is analyzing N.T. Wright’s 5 volume series, Christian Origins and the Question of God. This series is widely read and bridges the gap between the academic and devotional world. It is therefore worthy to be carefully analyzed so that all readers can understand his key points while at the same time gaining a critical eye to some of his rather bold claims. This series of posts are concerning volume 3 – The Resurrection of the Son of God.]

This first chapter of N.T. Wright’s third volume of his series “Christian Origins and the Question of God” sets up well what Wright is doing in this book. Therefore, some general comments will be made about the book’s scheme and the suspicions that we will need to levy against Wright throughout this book. It is important to take the time to lay out these views now, so that in further analysis of subsequent chapters, the same points do not need to be constantly rehashed. The major critique I have is Wright’s general view of historiographic epistemology and the limits he sets for himself in his study.

First, this volume is amazingly important to study because, first, it is by far the most popular of the 5 volumes so far published of the series and therefore has the most interest for an audience to take the time to study it. Further, this book is particularly helpful because it is less out of date than his previous volumes. The New Testament and the People of God was written in 1992, and throughout the critical reading of the book, I felt I was continually framing in a historical lapse in scholarship. This volume – the Resurrection of the Son of God was published in 2003 and is in dialogue with the major scholarship that is still current. While a decade is no small amount of time in the modern scholarly world, it is still generally true that larger questions and frameworks remain the same. Further, many of the authors have not changed. Therefore, far less accommodation for later developments need to be made.

As to the content of the chapter – and thus the book – the first point is laudable. Wright argues that this book will merge theology and history. This is a helpful plan when one is considering the resurrection. It is very difficult to discuss this “historically” without discussing theological implications. Wright demonstrates this well throughout:
As the overall title of the project indicates, and as Part I of the first volume explained, my intention is to write both about the historical beginnings of Christianity and about the question of god. I am, of course, aware that for over two hundred years scholars have labored to keep history and theology, or history and faith, at arm’s length from one another. There is good intention behind this move: each of these disciplines has its own proper shape and logic, and cannot simply be turned into a branch of the other. Yet here of all place – which Christian origins in general, and the resurrection in particular – they are inevitably intertwined.[1]
These, of course, do not have to be necessarily intertwined, but Wright is not foolish and is very much in tune with his audience. Most of the readers of these books are interested in not only what happened, but also in its significance.

Wright, then, asks a fundamental question as the topic of the book – what really happened on Easter morning? He argues that whatever happened on that morning should explain the movement that followed:
So what did happen on Easter morning? This historical question, which is the central theme of the present book, is closely related to the question of why Christianity began, and why it took the shape it did.[2]
Here, Wright’s analysis sets it tone – to understand the event, it must explain the consequence. At some level this is accurate. Something occurred at some point (given that we do not know precisely the date of the resurrection as we are unsure exactly of the year in which this occurred) that led a group to believe that Jesus was raised and built a movement around him.

Wright, though admits that he is also interested in challenging what he sees as the common scholarly and ecclesiastical view of the resurrection. He argues that there are six key points that generally held – all of which he disputes:
Though my approach throughout the book will be positive and expository, it is worth nothing from the outset that I intend to challenge this dominate paradigm in each of its main constituent parts. In general terms, this view holds the following: (1) that the Jewish context provides only a fuzzy setting, in which ‘resurrection’ could mean a variety of different things; (2) that the earliest Christian writer, Paul, did not believe in bodily resurrection, but held a “more spiritual” view; (3) that the earliest Christians believed, not in Jesus’ bodily resurrection, but in his exaltation/ascension/glorification, in his “going to heaven” in some kind of special capacity, and that they came to use “resurrection” language initially to denote that belief and only subsequently to speak of an empty tomb or of “seeing’ the risen Jesus; (4) that he resurrection stories in the gospels are late inventions designed to bolster up this second-stage belief; (5) that such “seeings’ of Jesus as may have taken place are best understood in terms of Paul’s conversion experience, which itself is to be explained as a “religious” experience, internal to the subject rather than involving the seeing of any external reality, and that the early Christians underwent some kind of fantasy or hallucination; (6) that whatever happened to Jesus’ body (opinions differ as to whether it was even buried in the first place), it was not “resuscitated”, and was certainly not “raised from the dead” in the sense that the gospels stories, read at face value, seem to require.[3]
Here, Wright has painted a picture that is quite striking. This view might be held by some – such as Marcus Borg – but serious questions would remain as to the number of scholars who would hold all of these views. Further, these would not be the only views that they held – they also would hold far more that would make such a picture make some kind of sense. Unfortunately, this is a straw man that needs to be taken very critically. Wright has framed the objections in ways to avoid what are the bigger problems. For instance, many skeptics of the sources would not necessarily argue that the problem is whether it was a bodily resurrection or not. Rather, the argument would be whether there was any resurrection of any kind. Some hold that Jesus was in no sense raised and that the story that it occurred was simply a fabrication of Jesus’ early followers which then spread like wild fire.

Wright’s response to these seven points betrays his bias – that whatever happens must explain what followed as an eventual world religion:
The positive thrust, naturally, is to establish (1) a different view of the Jewish context and materials, (2) a fresh understanding of Paul and (3) all the other early Christians, and (4) a new reading of the gospel stories; and to argue (5) that the only possible reason why early Christianity began and took shape it did is that the tomb really was empty and that people really did meet Jesus, alive again, and (6) that, though admitting it involves accepting a challenge at the level of worldview itself, the best historical explanation for all these phenomena is that Jesus was indeed bodily raised from the dead.[4]
His 5th point is actually the turning point. He will dispute the other points piece by piece, but the piece of evidence he demands to understand that many other scholars of the historical Jesus would not necessarily require – is that whatever occurred must explain what followed.

To understand how Wright has presented this it is helpful to consider what he is seeking when he discusses the historical event. He argues that there are 5 levels of historical inquiry. For our purposes we will focus on two. He rightly divides historical questions. The “first” question, he rightly points, is that there are some things that we believe and are convinced happened, but we have absolutely no way of knowing how or why they occurred – here he uses the example of the extinction of the pterodactyl.[5]  Anything that “happened” is therefore “historical” – even if we can’t explain it. This portion is not very helpful for analysis, because it’s whole point is that we cannot know whether it occurred. Far more helpful is his third category – that which can be verified/proved: 
Third, there is history as provable event. To say that something is historical in this sense is to say not only that it happened but that we can demonstrate that it happened, on the analogy of mathematics or the so-called hard sciences.[6]
The historian can admit that many things could have occurred – and indeed have occurred – but only a portion of these things can be verified. Wright paints this as logical positivism – and there are indeed historiographers who start here, but in reality few stay here – most go beyond this and posit what probably happened given the very small number of set things that can be proved.

Wright argues that the study of the historical Jesus is its own type of epistemology that fluctuates between what is “provable” and what can be discussed. He argues that the worldview that must be satisfied is post-enlightenment and this is the failure of the system:
Fifth, and finally, a combination of (3) and (4) is often found precisely in discussions of Jesus: history as what modern historians can say about a topic. By “modern” I mean “post-Enlightenment,” the period in which people have imagined some kind of analogy, even correlation, between history and the hard sciences. In this sense, “historical” means not only hat which can be demonstrated and written, but that which can be demonstrated and written within the post-Enlightenment worldview.[7]
The problem with Wright’s presentation here is what is implied rather than what is said. He seems to use the phrase “Post-Enlightenment” as a kind of attack. Wright tries to suggest that this is a scandal because these historians are using modern models to understand ancient sources. The problem is history is not an ancient source. Historical analysis is done in the present. One is confident in history – if it fits one’s own epistemology. We can only posit what we believe is valid. Just because someone in the first century was satisfied with an answer does not mean that we should be in the 21st. I am not saying that modern historiography is without error or does not need to be improved, but Wright’s trump card here really makes very little by way of strong, provable, points.

The key to understanding Wright’s framework, though, is not his critique of historiographers – as Wright says, his goal is a positive one. The key to understanding Wright is his view of the connection between the Easter event and the later Jesus movement. As stated above, in some sense, this is and must be accurate. Wright, though, frames this movement in a way that would not be satisfactory to many readers – though it is amazingly common.

Wright argues that the movement that followed Jesus was unique. He uses this fact to retroject backward that the event they held must have been sound. He argues against Troeltsch in this manner:
It is important to note what would follow if we took Troeltsch’s point seriously: we would be able to say nothing about the rise of the early church as a whole. Never before had there been a movement which began as a quasi-messianic group within Judaism and was transformed into the sort of movement which Christianity quickly became. Nor has any similar phenomenon ever occurred again.[8]
This view is amazingly common among Christian apologeticists and it is important to realize its weaknesses. Wright will go through this view in depth later in the book that will display a far smarter presentation of this point, but as to framework, this is not very strong.

First, Wright’s argument that there has never been a movement like the Jesus movement is simultaneously true and ridiculous for what he means by it. It is true only in the sense that there has never been any other movement that is precisely the same – if it were, it would just be called Christianity – as it would be the same. However, Wright means more than just this – he argues that the uniqueness of the movement is how a religious group could develop from a figure such as this. He argues no movement since has done that. Unfortunately, it is hard to argue this. For example, Manichaeism certainly did develop from a leader who proclaimed himself to be divine and flourished for a lengthy time period (until the 16th century).

Second, and probably more to the point, Wright treats the earliest followers as monolithic. He argues that all of Jesus’ followers had a general view of Jesus that was consistent. If there is one thing we have learned about the earliest Jesus movement groups is that aside from a general basis in Jesus in one way or another, very little else was common. This is why some scholars refer to early “Christianities” rather than early Christianity. I find this cloying as it makes it sound as if there were several religious groups. I find the best way to describe the earliest groups were members of Jesus movements – meaning that these people were varied and members of various communities with some connection to Jesus.

All of this is not to say that I do not think Jesus was resurrected nor do I think that the historical study of the event is fundamentally flawed. I do, however, think we need to be honest about the challenge of sources. I do not think – as so many people hold, Wright simply being among them – that the only way for a movement to develop around Jesus was for him to actually rise from the dead. That certainly is one real possibility, but it needs to be seen as that – one possibility among many.


[1] RSG, 5.
[2] RSG, 4.
[3] RSG, 7.
[4] RSG, 8.
[5] RSG, 12.
[6] RSG, 13.
[7] Ibid.
[8] RSG, 17.

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