[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 2 – Jesus and the Victory of God.]
This second volume of N.T. Wright’s as yet 5 volume series
(which is not fully complete) in the Christian
Origins and the Question of God series considers the question of the
historical Jesus. Wright is once again a very helpful case study because he
shows a learned, but very typical presentation of Christian origins. Wright is
not only nearly revered in devotional circles (seemingly taking the place that
Raymond Brown once held), but also he presents views that are very common.
Wright’s value then is that while he presents common views, he presents them in
an intelligent manner and explains their ramifications. This was true of his
reconstruction of the earliest readers of the New Testament in the previous
volume and remains true on his study of the historical Jesus in this volume.
Here in this first chapter, Wright presents the necessity of the study of the
historical Jesus and is a case study for its extreme difficulty.
First, Wright, in his series about the first followers of
Jesus, Jesus himself, and the New Testament rightly argues that among all the
diversity of Christianity, the one thing that is consistent is that they all
referred back to the historical figure of Jesus. He argues this in his preface:
The study of first-century Judaism
and first-century Christianity forces us to realize certain specific questions
about Jesus: who was he? What were his aims? Why did he die? And why did early
Christianity begin in the way that it died? The present book is my attempt to
answer to the first of these three questions, and to point towards an answer
for the fourth.[1]
Wright is certainly correct that speculation about Jesus is
necessary to understand the earliest Christians. If one can know who Jesus
actually was, then it should logically be easier to see how alternate mythoi
about Jesus could be developed – assuming that later authors did know at least
something about the historical Jesus themselves. It is likely that at least the
earliest gospels were familiar enough with the historical Jesus that we should
not tacitly assume that they were simply making elements up whole cloth. Instead,
one should assume at the very least (and some would argue far more than that)
that the basic framework for the gospels is based upon some key historical
events in the life of Jesus. At the very least, it is surely fair to say that
at least the earliest Christians were trying to present the historical figure
of Jesus – even if one would argue that these authors got it wrong. All of this
validates the study Wright is attempting to address.
Wright then considers scholars who have looked at this
question. He begins a historical analysis with the reformation. He argues that
until that time, there really was very little discussion of the historical Jesus
at all – in ecclesiastical circles, everyone assumed that everything the
gospels presented was historical and the question was not raised. Whether this
is true or not is up for at least some debate, but what is accurate is that the
scope or concern about this topic certainly was not as wide as it became in the
post-reformation/renaissance world.
The two scholars that Wright dialogues with carefully are
Albert Schweitzer and Rudolf Bultmann. He calls these two the “giants” that
have set the agenda for later discussion of the historical Jesus. He argues
that they have created a kind of negative view of the historical Jesus – not
negative in the sense that they saw him as somehow “bad,” but negative in the
sense of “reductive” – that they have eliminated much of the data that we have
as unreliable:
In their place, we have seen a new
kind of via negativa…they cannot be
dismissed as the products merely of cynical unbelief. They appear to possess
the proper, indeed reverent, caution of the angel rather than the blundering
haste of the fool (in this case, the heavy-handed historian).[2]
Here Wright does a good job – he points out that while
Bultmann and Schweitzer were very critical of the sources, they did not do this
out of some kind of scholarly conspiracy to destroy faith. Rather, they did
this because they revered the text so
carefully. Had they not done so, they would have simply slopped together the
data and not asked the texts hard questions.
Wright then remarks that while many disagree with these two
“giants” now (and nearly everyone does – both the devotional and the secular
scholar), these two set the agenda for most all later studies. Most will view Schweitzer
and Bultmann as having all the wrong answers to all the right questions:
Schweitzer and Bultmann are of
vital, if negative, importance to the contemporary work on the New Testament. This
is not merely because of their direct influence….Schweitzer and Bultmann are
important because they saw, arguable more clearly than anyone else in this
century, the fundamental shape of the New Testament jigsaw, and the nature of
the problems involved in trying to put it together.[3]
Both figures looked very deeply into the New Testament texts
(our vast majority of data for the study of the historical Jesus) in order to
understand some key points about it. They rightly realized that the texts
themselves could not simply be placed on top of each other to create a
historical picture. Instead, the data has to be critically examined. Using the
metaphor of the jigsaw, Wright explains this phenomenon:
The jigsaw they perceived is first
and foremost an historical one. The oddity of this particular puzzle consists
in the fact that the shape of the pieces is indeterminate: each must be cut and
trimmed to fit with the others, with none being automatically exempt from the
process.[4]
Wright is correct that the data is shaped. In fact, there
are few studies where one’s hermeneutic so clearly mandates a result as the
study of the historical Jesus. If one considers Jesus as an apocalyptic prophet
(as Wright does) or if one views Jesus as a radical social reformer (as J.D.
Crossan does) governs how one “shapes” the data to fit that particular mold.
Wright presents his argument as a kind of middle ground. He
wants to argue that while the gospels are not first and foremost historical,
they still present historical information. Wright is correct that the gospels
are not necessarily historical; they are theological. Many historical Jesus
scholars have seen these two sides in competition. The idea being that the
gospels were happy to sacrifice historical accuracy for theological clarity. At
least in some sense, this is accurate – the Gospel of John, for instance, is
infamous for simply changing the nature or sequence of events in order to make
theological points (e.g. changing the day on which Jesus was crucified in order
that Jesus could be the symbolic Passover lamb that was slaughtered). Wright;
however, argues generally in contrast to this. He argues that there can be a
historically accurate picture that is not in necessary competition with
theology:
It is a measure of the extent to
which the split between history and theology has dominated recent western
Christian thought that writers of all shades of opinion, from extreme orthodox to
extreme radical, have tacitly affirmed that it is difficult, if not impossible,
to hold the two together, especially in talking about Jesus….The underlying
argument of this book is that the split is not warranted: that rigorous history
(i.e. open-ended investigation of actual events in first-century Palestine) and
rigorous theology (i.e. open-ended investigation of what the word ‘god’, and
hence the adjective ‘divine’, might actually refer to) belong together, and
never more so than in the discussion of Jesus. If this means that we end up
needing a new metaphysic, so be it. It would be pleasant if, for once, the
historians and the theologians could set the agenda for philosophers, instead
of vice versa.[5]
Wright here is very much like many Christian thinkers who at
the very least want such a thing to be the case. They want their theological
picture to be the historical picture. Wright in a lucid way suggests the same.
The problem with Wright’s argument is how narrowly he
defines theology. He seems to define it based upon whether Jesus was divine or
not. While that is certainly an issue for theology, it is not the only issue for theology. While that one
issue is not necessarily mutually
exclusive – it is surely historically possible
that Jesus was divine even if it is not provable – there are other issues
which are not so certain. “Theology” is a very large swath of issues that
cannot be defined by a single point. What Wright has done is tried to
encapsulate what will be at most variance and in so doing has diminutized this
dichotomy. Likely, he will deal with some of the more minor issues while going
through this book, but the initial presentation is troubling.
Wright then provides a brief survey of the development of
the study of the historical Jesus over the course of the past two centuries.
Some criticisms could be made as to what he includes or excludes; however, as
he notes this story is told often and his conversation is not meant to be
exhaustive. His conclusion, though is telling. He argues that the quest is no
easier now than it ever has been. The sources have not changed nor have they
been amazingly clarified:
Two hundred years, then – surveyed
swiftly here, because the story has been told so often – have demonstrated that
the Quest is vital, but difficult. The sources are no less tricky to use now
than the y were at the start. The questions are no less pressing. From time to
time one hopes that a few false trails may have been closed off for good, but,
just when one allows oneself a sigh of relief at the thought, there arises
another cunning variation on an old theme. From time to time one believes that
some aspect of first-century Jewish history is now firmly established, so that
it can be used as a fixed point in future work; but there always seems to be
enough scope within the complex sources for strikingly different interpretations
to emerge.[6]
Here Wright is certainly correct – the sources are the same
sources (with slight additions here or there) and that the data always has an
am amount of variety in it. Very little of the first century can be known with the
pinpoint accuracy we would like and as a result, data always can be interpreted
widely.
Here Wright is a good case study of the challenge of the historical
Jesus. My graduate mentor always said that in the study of the historical
Jesus, there are rarely new ideas, just new authors. While this is an
exaggeration, it is a helpful one. Wright has pointed out the reason – the data
does not change. Further, the data is so governed by one’s interpretation, that
the interpretation creates the picture. This is always true of historical
inquiry, but in the study of the historical Jesus, it is abundantly true.
Further, the study of the historical Jesus has become an industry. There are so
many books written on the topic that nearly every opinion has been expressed
multiple times. Wright’s discussion is worthwhile because it is so common – not
because it is unique. Wright presents in an academic way the general argument made
by most Protestants (and possibly also Roman Catholics – but I lack the
knowledge of that particular group).
This is the challenge of the study of the historical Jesus.
Wright is correct that it is necessary, but also correct that it is uncertain
and likely will remain so. Wright presents a worldview that he explores to its
logical end. This upcoming analysis then will be more about the logical end of
that worldview than about the data of the historical Jesus, which always is
indeterminate.
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