A searchable, downloadable PDF of the original article appears below. Rev. Dr. Paul Barnett is Master of Robert Menzies College at Macquarie University, Sydney, where for some years he has lectured in the School of History, Philosophy and Politics. This past term he was a visiting lecturer in New Testament at Regent College, Vancouver. This article was written in response to a major article in the Atlantic Monthly this past winter in which it was shown how recent scholarship had serious questions concerning the traditional biblical picture of Jesus. Reproduced with permission of Southern Cross magazine, St. Andrew’s House, Sydney. Australia.
Although nineteen hundred and fifty-four years have passed since his death, Jesus of Nazareth remains a continuing figure of fascination, and not just to Christians.
In Jesus’ own day he created considerable interest. The Herodian ruler Antipas had been extremely curious to meet this miracle-worker. In the popular perception he was a prophet, but there was disagreement as to which of the great prophets of the past he most closely resembled. A growing conviction arose, including among his immediate circle, that he might be Messiah, the one anointed to establish God’s Kingdom in Jerusalem. This would mean, among other things that Jesus would expel the hated Gentile occupying forces. To the second-rates and outcasts of that Pharisaic society – the disabled, the women, those who practised despised trades – Jesus was friend and champion, who had a magnetic appeal.
It is not surprising, therefore, that differing opinions about Jesus continue to be expressed. Some today regard him as a magician, others as a devout mystic. In these liberation-conscious times some see Jesus as a liberator who freed the socially and sexually oppressed. Others again feel that he was unsure of himself – a man desperately in search of his own identity and role.
The problem for us is to know what to think of the New Testament, our chief source of information about this man. Popular rock operas like Superstar and Godspell have created a feeling of unreality about it all. Maybe we should think of Jesus like King Arthur and the apostles like the Knights of the round table, with Judas under the spell of a Merlin thrown in for good measure. Perhaps the New Testament is like that – a romantic legend which has grown out of some remotely distant events and people of doubtful historical accuracy. Do people read of Capernaum and think Camelot?
Is the Bible reliable?
If there is uncertainty in the popular mind there is also logical inconsistency in some scholarly studies on Jesus. On one hand a scholar tends to take a “low” view of what is characterized as flawed and imperfect documents. On the other he takes a “high” view of the reconstructed Jesus he confidently puts before us – whether magician, mystic, libertine or liberator. A “low” view of the New Testament, however, should, consistently, mean having a “low” possibility of saying much at all about Jesus. If you have doubts about documents’ sources, why use them at all?
Are there any reasons, apart from theological ones, that we should take a “high” view of the New Testament documents? Briefly, let me suggest four reasons which encourage confidence for its use in historical research.
First, these documents are close in time to the person they portray. All of Paul’s letters – about half the New Testament – were written within the lifetime of Jesus’ close contacts. Most of the remainder appears to have been written no more than 10 or 15 years beyond that. Every part of the New Testament, barring one or two minor letters, is known to have been in use by the end of the first century – no more than 70 years later than Jesus. Few if any great figures in antiquity have documentary sources as close in time to them as Jesus does. Moreover, within these finished documents lie source materials which are much earlier. Paul’s first Corinthian letter was written in the mid 50s but it contains creed-type statements about the meaning of Jesus’ death and the fact of his resurrection that Paul received in the mid 30s, just two or three years later than Jesus.
Second, there are several cross checks possible within the literature. Matthew and Luke both use Mark’s text in their gospels and can be shown to be sober scribes by comparing the manuscripts. Paul’s autobiographical speeches recorded in Acts are confirmed as accurate by what Paul says about himself in his letters, even though the letters of Paul and the Acts of the Apostles were written independently of each other. John’s and Mark’s gospels were probably written apart from each other, yet detail from one supports detail from the other, as for example John the Baptist’s opinion of Jesus.
Third, the gospels and letters are studded with historical facts – names of people and places, references to time. Paul’s letters were written to real people at real places with distinctive problems. The gospels give the names of villages and of men and women. The gospel stories are told with vivid details of movement and colour. In other words the literature has all the marks of history; it is historical and biographical in character.
Fourth, on many occasions these details match those known to us from the broad stream of history. Thus in the New Testament we meet rulers like Herod, Archelaus, Antipas, the Agrippas, Aretas and Roman Governors like Pilate, Felix, Festus and High Priests like Annas, Caiaphas, Ananias and Jewish identities like Judas the Galilean, the Egyptian prophet. Sometimes the New Testament data is more detailed than other sources so that it makes a major historical contribution to our knowledge. Jesus’ parables, for example, are a significant source of information for first century Galilean sociology.
For these reasons, as a student of history, I have a “high” regard for the literature of the New Testament as a basis of historical research into Jesus of Nazareth – what he did and said.
I also have a “high” view of the possibility of constructing an outline of Herod Agrippa I, a near contemporary of Jesus. Agrippa was born about three years earlier than Jesus and lived about ten years longer. A grandson of Herod the Great, Agrippa was brought up in Rome before becoming prominent in Palestine in A.D. 37. He became king of a united Israel in A.D. 41-44. While there are some difficult-to-reconcile aspects of his character it is possible, as with Jesus, to reconstruct his career and temperament, with some confidence. This is because, again as with Jesus, the major documents are close in time to the man, and there is independent data which confirms the overall picture.
This is not to claim, either for Jesus or Agrippa, the possibility of a fail-safe, cast-iron character profile. But for both Jesus and Agrippa the broad outlines as well as many fine details are available to us.
What then can we say about Jesus?
Regarding his origins Matthew and Luke, who wrote independently, confirm that Mary a virgin woman became pregnant while only betrothed to Joseph. Both evangelists attribute this to divine intervention. Joseph, a builder, and an obscure descendant of King David, married Mary and the child was born in Bethlehem, near the end of Herod’s life, in 7 or 6 B.C.
Jesus, with his sisters and four brothers, was raised in Nazareth, a little known town of about 1500 people which was located in a mountain range mid way between the Sea of Galilee and the Mediterranean. Like Joseph, his legal father, Jesus became a builder.
The evidence is that Jesus was able both to read Hebrew and to write, doubtless due to the well-established practices of education in the home and the Synagogue. It is almost certain that he could also speak and understand Greek. Above and beyond this he possessed exceptional ability in teaching and debating the Jewish Law, despite not having attended the Rabbinic schools in Jerusalem. The gospels record his astonishing impact as a teacher and it was a such that he was regularly addressed. Jesus, however, attributed all that he taught and did, not to himself, but to the Father who sent him. He emerges from the gospels full-orbed emotionally, expressing anger, grief, love and fear.
His public career lasted a mere three and a bit years, as may be calculated by references to times of harvesting and Passovers observed. For about two and a half years he publicly declared to Israel that the Kingdom of God was imminent. He summoned the nation to believe this and to return to God in repentance. His preferred teaching medium was the parable.
Miracles of exorcism and healing were given as signs that he was not merely the herald of the Kingdom of God, but its bearer and instrument. He called himself “Son of Man”, an enigmatic and end-time reference. Jesus offended Jewish authorities by addressing God as “Abba”, the dear Father who sent him, and by speaking of himself as “the Son”. Those who flocked to him were the outcasts and downtrodden of that society.
The people as a whole, however, were unmoved by his message, whether delivered by him in person or by his disciples sent out on his behalf. The climax and turning point of his career was the gathering in the wilderness at Passover time. The people might have acknowledged him as their shepherd-leader but instead attempted to make him their military Messiah. The die was cast; he now had the political profile he had long striven to avoid. In exactly a year he would be crucified by the Romans as “King of the Jews”.
For the next six months he travelled in the west, east and north of Antipas’ territory, in relative seclusion with his disciples. During this period he taught them about his approaching death and resurrection and how they were to live in the period before his ultimate re-appearance. Then, fatefully, he travelled to Judaea and for the next six months debated with the Jewish leaders from time to time, and briefly in the Temple precincts, withdrawing to the safety of Transjordan as necessary.
Six days before the Passover Jesus dramatically rode up to Jerusalem in the manner of the king as prophesied by Zechariah. In effect he secured his own arrest. In those last days he predicted the destruction of the Temple and established the remembrance meal commemorating his death which, he taught, would mean atonement for the sins of many.
The climax and turning point of his career was the gathering in the wilderness at Passover time. The people might have acknowledged him as their shepherd-leader but instead attempted to make him their military Messiah.
As I read the documents I discover in Jesus a man of deep purpose. While his movements and actions taken alone may appear aimless, his words stamp all that he did with authority. One of his most characteristic ways of speaking was to say: “I came to…” – “I came to proclaim (the Kingdom), to call sinners to repentance, to fulfil law and prophets, to cast a fire on earth, to seek and save the lost, to bear witness to the truth.” Equally striking was his utter conviction that God was, uniquely, his “Father” and that Jesus was “the Son”. This interconnected sense of purpose and identity is central to Jesus and the source of strong feelings against him.
To see in Jesus an uncertain, confused person in search of identity and meaning is a wilful misreading of information. To reconstruct him as a devout mystic, as a wonder-worker or Zealot liberator is to magnify and distort elements of Jesus which lie at the margin, while ignoring his declared intentions and identity which were central to his mission.
Who then was Jesus?
The New Testament is a collection of 27 diverse documents written over a 60 year period by nine or ten authors, most of whom wrote independently of each other. While their styles differ, all agree that Jesus of Nazareth was and is, uniquely and supernaturally, the Son of God.
Basic to their judgement of Jesus was the certainty that God has raised him from the dead on the third day. The physical resurrection of Jesus is implied on every page of the New Testament. Remove the resurrection and these documents are reduced to shreds and tatters. Apart from it, despite Jesus’ remarkable mystique and charisma, Jesus would be by now long-forgotten, just another disillusioned and unsuccessful utopian dream from Jewish history.