  
Theories and Methodologies in the Study of the Historical
Jesus and Christian Origins

Introduction
John Dominic Crossan, the doyen of Historical Jesus studies, disarmingly
admits that his subject “is a very safe place to do theology and call it
history, to do autobiography and call it biography”
[NOTE]. His field has expanded enormously in the last few decades to become
an industry churning out articles and books while he has himself become a
television and media regular beloved of reporters who value his pithy aphorisms
as ready made sound bites for their stories. Crossan believes the Historical
Jesus leaves much to the imagination but others claim the early Church is even
more of a blank slate. “It is not possible to explain the expansion of
Christianity convincingly,” says Paul Veyne in the introduction to the German
edition of Peter Brown’s The Last Pagans. Veyne continues “We know
utterly nothing about it; we haven’t the slightest idea of the shape a causal
explanation of the process might take on and in any case, frankly viewed, any
attempted explanation would be both purposeless and impossible.”
[NOTE].
In a field containing a heady mixture of religion and politics, as well as a
vocal fringe ready to put forward any view they can think of, the scholar must
tread carefully. But these attributes make being an observer, if not a
participant, so rewarding and are why the quest to find a historical Jesus is
showing no signs of let up after two centuries of effort.
Early work on the Historical Jesus
The critical and academic study of Jesus as a historical personage is usually
said to have begun with David Friedrich Strauss, who published his Life of
Jesus Critically Examined in 1835. Strauss, keen to break the dichotomy
between false and mythological, suggested that many of the stories in the
Gospels were myths intended to illustrate aspects of Jesus’ mission and
legitimise him in the eyes of Jews or Greeks. The controversy the book
engendered pretty much ended Strauss’s academic career and spawned a crop of
studies of Jesus’ life. This mainly German work was analysed by Albert
Schweitzer in The Quest for the Historical Jesus in 1906. He carefully
reviewed the fruits of the previous century, devoting particular attention to
Strauss, before concluding that “There is nothing more negative than the result
of the critical study of the life of Jesus.”
[NOTE]. This pessimistic assessment effectively ended what has since been
called the First Quest for the Historical Jesus.
The Second or New Quest was founded by Rudulf Bultmann in the 1930s who
brought a new methodology called Form Criticism to bear on the problem of what
parts of tradition date back to Jesus. He and his students dominated Historical
Jesus studies in Germany and exported their ideas to America where they took
root in liberal seminaries. The New Quest also failed because Form Criticism was
unable to separate history from myth without some sort of external control.
Bultmann himself conceded “I do indeed think that we can know now almost nothing
concerning the life and personality of Jesus since the early Christian sources
show no interest in either.”
[NOTE].
The Third Quest for Jesus
The relative success of the American based Third Quest which begun in the
1970s, rests on twin pillars. First, led by Geza Vermes, researchers have
identified Jesus and his followers as first century Jews and not, as had been
the previous practice, as proto-Christians. Second, the canon of the New
Testament has been supplemented with whatever other texts can be found and the
number of such texts available has exploded in the last sixty years.
The central advantage of identifying Jesus as a Jew was that it enabled him
to be located within a cultural milieu that had already been subject to a great
deal of research. It was no longer the case that later impressions were being
projected back onto the historical Jesus. This is not to say that earlier
scholars did not realise that Jesus was Jewish but rather that he was studied as
an outsider rather than as someone brought up within the culture. They asked why
Jesus seemed to be in constant opposition to the Pharisees, rather than noting
that he had a lot in common with them too and his most successful follower, Saul
of Tarsus, was a Pharisee himself. Furthermore, the authors of most of the New
Testament were also Jews and so it must be understood as a product of first
century Judaism despite actually being written in Greek.
The canon of the New Testament was finally fixed at the council of Chalcedon
in AD451 but the main shape was clear by the late second century if not earlier.
Third Quest scholars abandoned this distinction between canonical and
non-canonical and started to gather together all the texts they could. As well
as writings of the apostolic fathers that had always been known, like the
letters of Clement, Ignatius and Polycarp, new texts have been rapidly coming to
light such as the Gospels of Thomas and Peter, the Secret Gospel of Mark,
fragments of lost gospels and large amounts of Gnostic writing from the Nag
Hammadi library. The treatment of these texts varies from scholar to scholar.
John Meier examines them closely before deciding that the canonical books are
the only reliable source of information after all
[NOTE]. However, Crossan puts great stock in the Gospel of Peter containing
the earliest version of the passion narrative while the late Morton Smith made
so much of the rather dubious Secret Gospel of Mark in books like Jesus the
Magician (1978) that, as can be seen
here, it has even
been suggested he used a forgery. The Gospel of Thomas is a collection of
sayings attributed to Jesus that most scholars insist is late and Gnostic
although some, such as Helmut Koester and members of the Jesus Seminar, believe
that it is part of an independent tradition predating the canonical Gospels.
The Dead Sea Scrolls, found in the 1940s, have engendered a lot of interest
but, outside of the sensationalist fringe, there is consensus that they have
nothing to do with early Christianity at all. They are, however, an unparalleled
source of information on another Jewish sectarian movement of the time that
furnish many insights into the cultural environment in which Jesus lived and the
sorts of people who were cutting themselves off from it. The Nag Hammadi
library, which came to light at much the same time, was the other textual
discovery of the century. A number of codices dating from the fourth century
were unearthed in the Egyptian desert which contained the writings of Gnostic
sectarians previously known, if at all, only from short quotations. The
Gnosticism that was revealed was an enormously varied patchwork of beliefs that
made orthodox Christianity seem homogenous in comparison. Initially, there
seemed to be a temptation for scholars to portray Gnosticism as a kinder,
gentler form of Christianity that was ousted by the more assertive orthodoxy.
More in depth study of the texts now available has found Gnosticism to be far
too varied to make any such judgements and indeed the very variety of readings
available was what enabled earlier scholars to pick out the passages they liked.
The twin pillars of Jesus’ Judaism and the new textual material have allowed
the Third Quest to make progress on many fronts. We now have a better
understanding of Roman Palestine, Hellenistic and third Temple Judaism and Greek
religion than ever before. Unfortunately the man in the centre of all this
scholarly activity remains an enigma. Who was Jesus? Crossan claims he was a
revolutionary peasant, to Burton Mack he was a “cynic-like sage”
[NOTE], to Tom Wright he is a Jewish prophet and to Marcus Borg a
charismatic preacher (and definitely not an eschatological prophet). As Luke
Timothy Johnson says, all this variety could mean that “virtually any hypothesis
can sustain itself”
[NOTE] and even Crossan admits that the “stunning diversity is an academic
embarrassment.”
[NOTE] On the other hand, a great deal of Jesus research is about his
motivations and what he was trying to achieve - considerations about the ‘inner
man’ that might be equally opaque if applied to Socrates or Seneca.
Behind these different Jesuses, the Third Quest has used the available
materials and methods to secure a number of facts that are almost universally
accepted and thus escaped the trap of extreme scepticism. EP Sanders helpfully
gives a list of them and adds that there are now “no substantial doubts about
the course of Jesus’ life”
[NOTE]. The establishment of this framework, which can act as a control over
further speculation, is a major achievement of the Third Quest and has given an
answer to the question of how much we can know about the real Jesus.
Methodology
Textual criticism
Faced with four basic Gospel sources, the reaction of researchers has been to
find several more. Source Criticism attempts to break down the presently extant
texts into their constituent and earlier parts. The triumph of this approach has
been the discovery of Q (from “Quelle” which is German for “source”) and the
almost total acceptance of Markan priority. The traditional view had been that
Matthew’s Gospel was the first written (a position now called the Griesbach
hypothesis after its most persuasive modern exponent) but source critics said
that Matthew and Luke had used Mark and another lost source dubbed Q (made up
largely of sayings of Jesus) as well as their own material. The Gospel of John
is apparently unrelated to the other three but has also been split into a number
of parts including a “Signs Gospel” of miracles suggested to predate the
destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70AD. Crossan has suggested there existed
a “Cross Gospel”, which he claims to find embedded in the apocryphal Gospel of
Peter, which underlies all four passion narratives
[NOTE].
The temptation to deconstruct texts was taken to its logical extreme by
Burton Mack in his own work on Q. Regardless of the fact that Q itself is only a
hypothetical document, he divides it into three separate sources Q1, Q2 and Q3.
Furthermore he postulates in which order these three were written and hence what
they tell us about the evolving view of Jesus. The lowest level corresponds to
Mack’s own picture of Jesus as a cynic sage without any reference to his death
and resurrection. Luke Timothy Johnson is not alone is wondering how the sheer
weight of assumptions required to give this reconstruction can be supported
[NOTE]. Source Criticism itself has not been without its critics. A minority
of scholars reject the existence of Q while Wright insists that we must use a
“holistic reading”
[NOTE] of the complete texts in their final form as only these fully reflect
the intentions of their authors.
In order to determine what dated back to Jesus, Rudolf Bultmann developed
Form Criticism. He broke down each of the Gospels into ‘pericopes’ or little
story fragments that appeared to be self contained and then attempted to make a
judgement about the authenticity of each. Third Quest scholars have used a
similar method best typified by that of the Jesus Seminar founded by Robert
Funk. The Seminar studies each act or saying of Jesus and then, using the
criteria of authenticity (about which more below) vote on the likelihood of it
being genuine. The results are published as translations of the Gospels that
colour code each pericope according to the level of certainty the seminarians
had about whether it dates back to Jesus.
Form Criticism is criticised for being too much of a blunt instrument and
unable to deal with a genuine theme running through a series of apocryphal
stories. Funk had wanted to use a simple ‘true or false’ system for the Jesus
Seminar but accepted more shades of uncertainty under pressure from other
seminarians, perhaps horrified to be asked to make a clear cut decision. Crossan,
himself a member of the Jesus Seminar, uses a more refined methodology in The
Historical Jesus that involves stratifying the pericopes from every text he can
find, grouping them together as his data and then deciding which ones have
independent attestation. The pericopes with at least two independent
attestations and dating from the earliest strata form his initial collection of
facts. Although many might object to his decisions on stratification and
independence, Crossan’s methodology is at least transparent and can hence be
analysed and unpicked by those who disagree with him.
The authors of the early Christian texts all had agendas of their own (known
as tendenz) and these are what Redaction Criticism attempts to unravel.
We have now moved beyond Jesus himself to what was being said about him by the
earliest communities that produced the Gospels. Redaction criticism looks at
changes and additions the evangelists made to their source material either by
way of explanation or attempting to make sense of difficult passages. For
instance, asides in Mark’s Gospel make clear it was written for a non-Jewish
audience. However, the hints about the author and his community that can be
picked up by this method are very scanty and open to debate.
Criteria of Authenticity
The analysis of particular pericopes of the Jesus tradition is usually
carried out using the criteria of authenticity as a toolkit. Exactly which
criteria are used by a given scholar, the names she gives them and the
techniques with which she applies them all vary, but certain common points
apply. A list and description of the criteria can be found in many books on
Historical Jesus research and I have selected a few major ones to examine.
Dissimilarity: Each of the writers of sacred literature had a particular
perspective which colours their work and determines how they redact the Jesus
tradition available to them. This criterion supposes that a pericope that runs
counter to the rhetorical flow of the text is more likely to be true. John
Meier, among others, hones this into a criterion of embarrassment that suggests
that if the writer sets down something he would rather have avoided, then it is
more likely to be true
[NOTE]. The ultimate embarrassment is the crucifixion itself, but Peter’s
denials and John baptising Jesus (who was supposed to be sinless) are other
examples. This methodology sounds sensible but requires caution. First, it can
only determine the contents of the tradition inherited by the writer in question
and not its genuineness. As seriously, it assumes that we can discover the
writers purpose from his text and hence tell what is inimical to it. For
instance, Peter’s denials might be a reflection of the writer’s community being
in conflict with another community claiming descent from Peter.
Coherence: This criterion seems to run counter the one above but is concerned
not with the coherence of the evangelist’s message, but that of Jesus himself. A
saying that squares well with what we already know about Jesus, especially if it
cannot be traced to another source, is more likely to come from him. The problem
is that we need knowledge of Jesus and the usual temptation is to accept
something under this criterion if it agrees with our pre-formed impression of
what Jesus ought to be like. Certainly much of the criticism of historical
reconstructions of Jesus centres on their apparently being decided in advance
with the evidence supplied later.
Multiple attestation: The textual critics have supplied us with some probable
family trees for early Christian writing that mean we can trace dependency. This
in turn allows decisions to be made on how often various points about Jesus are
independently attested. While this can only show that something comes from an
early tradition it is more objective than other methods. The difficulty arises
when we cannot agree on textual dependency with the classic case being whether
John used the synoptic Gospels.
Historical plausibility: This criterion suggests that when a particular event
or custom is known to be the usual practice, it is more likely to have happened.
Some historians go further and say that just a precedent from another source can
reinforce the likelihood of accuracy. The battleground here is over whether
Jesus was buried in a tomb. Some scholars claim that Roman practice was to leave
the corpse hanging on the cross or throwing it into a lime pit. Others admit
this, but point to the archaeological discovery of a crucifixion victim in a
high status tomb, Philo’s account of honourable burial being allowed for rebels
at festival time and Josephus being able to persuade the Romans to take down his
friends off the cross. These they say are precedents that the usual practice was
not always followed and so the Gospel account of Jesus being buried by Joseph of
Arimathea is credible and should be believed.
Language: Although Jesus and his followers most likely spoke Aramaic, the
entire New Testament is in Greek. However, there are short snippets of Aramaic
transliteration (such as Jesus calling God “Abba”) that suggest survivals from a
pre-Greek tradition that should be closer to the real Jesus.
While the criteria of authenticity need to be handled with care, they do
provide ways in which particular sayings and events in the accounts of Jesus’
life can be analysed and possible genuine facts about him winnowed from the
chaff of later embellishment.
Theory
New Historicism and Semiotics
The Gospels provide some of the most fertile ground there is for analysing
how facts are weaved into stories intended to communicate a particular message.
This process can be quite explicit and works both ways - where the story is
fitted to the prophecy (such as the virgin birth) or the prophecy fitted to the
story (such as Matthew’s unattributable saying stating Jesus would be a Nazerene).
Beyond these obvious cases, scholars have unpicked other events in the Gospels
to try and determine to what extend the Old Testament was being retold in the
guise of the New. Two examples of this theory in action should suffice to
illustrate the point.
The feeding miracles are found in all four Gospels (twice in Matthew and
Mark) and so are central to the Jesus tradition. They can be analysed as being
built on the real Jesus urging people to share their food but with layers added
on top from the Old Testament. In particular the story of Elijah, who of all the
prophets was a northerner like Jesus, feeding a hundred (2 Kings 4:42 - 44) is a
clear precursor to Jesus, the new, bigger and better Elijah, feeding four or
five thousand. The passion narrative is also laden with symbolism and Crossan
has suggested that apart from the brute fact of the crucifixion, it is entirely
made up of what he calls ‘prophecy historicised’
[NOTE] by which he means a post de facto attempt to justify Jesus’
death with reference to the scriptures.
Although the Old Testament provides a rich source of material that the New
Testament’s authors could have used, Dennis MacDonald has looked beyond it to
another ubiquitous literary source - the epics of Homer. After convincingly
showing that the apocryphal Acts of Andrew is built over the same textual
skeleton as the Odyssey, in The Homeric Epics and the Gospel of Mark
(2000) he also tried to demonstrate that Mark’s Gospel follows the same pattern.
In this he is perhaps less successful and his parallels require too many
assumptions and leave too much that could simply be coincidence.
The multi-layered depth of the symbols and myths overlaying the historical
Jesus has caused some to echo Schweitzer and ask if we can know anything about
him beyond the most basic facts. To this it can be argued that the fault is with
a post-modernism that deems everything symbolic even if it is well attested and
credible, such as the empty tomb or disturbance in the temple. We can
deconstruct the texts of the New Testament ad infinitum without ever increasing
the stock of historical knowledge. It is the same earth being tilled and the
chances of finding something new must be getting increasingly remote.
The issue here is which controls should constrain semiotic speculation. It is
true that practically anything can be interpreted symbolically although it is
much harder to ascertain whether our symbols are those the original author had
in mind. Furthermore, in making their redaction of stories and sayings, ancient
authors could be using historical facts with symbolic value to make their point.
There does appear to be a belief that if an event of Jesus’ life happens to
correspond with one of the multitude of prophecies of the Old Testament, it
cannot be factual. Hence there is widespread rejection of Jesus’ birth in
Bethlehem because of a prophecy (Micah 2:5) even though both Matthew and Luke
seem to have hit on the same idea independently.
In the quotation from Crossan we started with, the other side of the New
Historicism was clearly recognised in that we impose our own values and patterns
onto the past. In Historical Jesus studies, feminist historians in particular,
have been accused of attempting to recruit Jesus and the Gnostics to their cause
by a measure of cherry picking the sources and imposing their own values on
them. Elaine Pagels, in her best selling The Gnostic Gospels (1979)
appears to try and highlight apparent feminist elements to paint a picture of
Gnosticism far more to modern taste than many would allow. A reader could form
the impression that the nice tolerant Gnostics were crushed by the state backed
power of the narrow minded orthodox. Even in the canonical Gospels, certain
pericodes, like at Luke 10:38 - 42, have been interpreted as the last vestiges
of a feminist Jesus who was suppressed by the male dominated church as soon as
it got the chance.
While using the symbolic resources of the Old Testament and elsewhere, the
historian should try to keep within the largely agreed framework delineated by
Sanders and Meier unless they have good cause to step beyond its bounds. Only if
we allow ourselves to be constrained by some controls can we be doing history
because otherwise the story we tell comes entirely within. It is better to be a
complete agnostic about the Historical Jesus than accept a reconstruction that
cannot be justified from the sources.
Marxism, Sociology and Anthropology
Marxism has not had a huge part to play in Jesus research until the Third
Quest. The traditional Marxist view of the early church, as typified by Engel’s
article Bruno Bauer and Early Christianity in 1882, was that of the
priests deceiving people with “fine delusions” in order to obtain and hold
power, but conversely Christianity’s popularity among the oppressed also led to
comparisons with working class movements.
Crossan, in his efforts to contextualise Jesus does examine the modes of
production and degree of exploitation in a Mediterranean peasant society.
Related to this is his work on the client/patron social structure that requires
intermediaries between the lower strata of society and the sources of power.
Favours were passed up and down the chain that enabled power to be used in a
more efficient way than if it was simply being exercised by one man. On the
other hand, this structure veiled the real source of power to those lower down
the ladder who could only reach it only through the intermediaries. The system
of clients and patrons reaching all the way up to the Roman Emperor is but one
form of this while another, probably more important to Jesus, was the priesthood
of Jerusalem’s temple who controlled the access to the divine. Crossan suggests
that Jesus rejected these earthly power structures and preached a radical
egalitarianism of peasant liberation. However, after Jesus’ death, the old forms
slowly reasserted themselves with the embryonic church developing a hierarchy of
bishop, deacon and layperson. The ultimate power was God but he was still veiled
by intermediaries through whom the people must go to gain his blessings. In the
case of Christianity, as in Judaism, hermits and prophets could follow the
example of Jesus and opt out of this system to claim a direct link to God. As
long as they enjoyed enough popular support and kept their preaching reasonably
compatible with the church’s own, they could thrive as few outsiders do.
Anthropologists have solved one problem that has plagued biblical studies
since the rise of rationalism and that is what to do about miracles. Writers
have long assumed that miracle stories take a good number of years to develop
and that their presence means the source that preserves them must be remote to
the event. However, studies of Indian fakirs and other holy men have found that
stories of magical power can start immediately and be widely believed during the
lifetime of the wonder worker. The belief is so strong that even when fakirs
methods are known and exposed they continue to be lauded for their powers. There
are also numerous stories in the Christian missionary community of miracles
carried out by still living persons who seem either unable or not inclined to
refute the accounts. Consequently, it is now widely held that the miracle
stories in the Gospels could reflect the attitude of Jesus’ contemporaries to
his abilities rather than merely reflecting myth making by the evangelists.
In The Rise of Christianity (1996), the sociologist, Ronald Stark, has
been studying the early church and has turned the methods of his field to the
cause of explaining its success. He has brought to bear “rational choice
theory”, “dynamic population models”, “theories of the firm” and “social
anthropology” to paint a radically different picture of how Christianity
conquered the Roman Empire. He suggests that Constantine’s adoption of
Christianity was a reaction to its success, especially in his army, rather than
being the cause. While Stark’s conclusions are controversial, the methods he has
introduced should add new weapons to historians’ armouries as they try to
establish how a persecuted sect became a state religion.
Orthodoxy and heresy
In the late 18th century, Edward Gibbon courted controversy in the famous two
chapters of his The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire that deal with
the rise of Christianity. He tried to explain how this religion managed to
become so successful using naturalistic means although with his tongue firmly in
check he first admitted “that it was owing… to the ruling providence of its
great Author”
[NOTE]. Even today the story of martyrdom and near inevitable triumph
remains the picture carried around in the heads of most lay people.
Walter Bauer set much of the modern agenda for study of the early church in
1934 when he published his Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity.
Initially most influential in his native Germany, its thesis was carried over
the Atlantic in Koester and Robinson’s Trajectories through the Early Church
(1971) and is now one of the standard works on the subject. According to Bauer,
orthodoxy is unseated from its throne and Christianity becomes a market place of
competing heresies, one of which was eventually victorious. Orthodoxy defined
itself by the use of the ‘apostolic succession’ of bishops from the original
apostles, the statements of faith or creeds and the assembly and closure of a
canon of sacred writings. The discovery of the Nag Hammadi library has greatly
increased the number of heretical texts available and increased the impression
that early Christians were a highly disparate bunch.
Against this consensus, more conservative historians point out that we have
no solid evidence of the relative strengths of particular sects and we cannot
say that the mainstream of early Christian opinion was not essentially the same
as what later became orthodoxy. Although, they are happy to admit of the variety
in early beliefs, they also see orthodoxy as emerging from a formalisation of
views in the second century rather than being a distinct trajectory that came to
dominate. To simply assume all sects are equal because they all wrote something
is a reflection of our own modern relativism. Besides, it is hard enough to
discover why Christianity was ultimately so successful. Splitting it into
innumerable sects only generates another question - why, out of these, was it
what we now call orthodoxy that won?
Our view of the early church is warped by the ultimate success of orthodoxy
and by the documents that happen to have survived. The theological arguments of
the literate were probably irrelevant to their flocks whose faith was relatively
simple. When they lent their weight to esoteric disputes on the nature of Christ
it was tribalism or support for a charismatic preacher that brought them onto
the streets. Once orthodoxy triumphed most of these people could happily drift
into the fold unless, like in Egypt, the local traditions were sufficiently
strong and isolated to allow an independent church to develop.
Conclusion
The question of how and why Christianity expanded to conquer the Empire that
had persecuted it remains as much a mystery now as it always was and Veyne’s
pessimism remains justified. However, anthropology and sociology have opened up
new lines of enquiry that do not depend on the narrow written record or the
post ad hoc explanations of the church. As for Jesus himself, he continues
to ask “Who do you say I am?”
[NOTE]. Each generation answers the question in its own way, using the texts
both within and without the New Testament to find the man with whom they want to
identify. The Third Quest is driven by our desire for a Jesus about whom
objective facts can be known and also one who nicely complements our modern
liberal outlook. Unsurprisingly, scholars like Sanders and Crossan have been
able to provide both.
Bibliography
Crossan, John Dominic The Historical Jesus New York, 1991
Johnson, Luke Timothy The Real Jesus New York, 1996
Koester, Helmut Ancient Christian Gospels London, 1990
Mack, Burton The Lost Gospel Shaftsbury, 1993
Meier, John A Marginal Jew - Volume 1 New York, 1991
Sanders, EP The Historical Figure of Jesus London 1993
Schweitzer, Albert The Quest for the Historical Jesus Baltimore, 1998
Vermes, Geza Jesus and the World of Judaism London, 1983
Wright, NT The New Testament and the People of God London 1992
Notes in the article above appear in the status bar of your browser if you
have Javascript enabled. All quotations from or references to this essay
should be accompanied by a link back to this page and the name of the author.
This essay may be reproduced only with permission of the author although such
permission will not normally be declined.
© James Hannam 2003.
Last revised:
08 December, 2009 .
|