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Wednesday, November 26, 2025

James the Brother of Jesus: The Key to Unlocking the Secrets of Early Christianity and the Dead Sea Scrolls by Robert H. Eisenman

In James the Brother of Jesus, Robert H. Eisenman sets himself a bold and provocative task: to rewrite the story of early Christianity by making the figure of James, brother of Jesus — long sidelined in mainstream accounts — once again central. Eisenman argues that the dominant narrative, which privileges Paul the Apostle and a Gentile-centered Christianity, obscures a far more Jewish, nationalistic, and sectarian origin. By combining neglected early Christian writings with the texts of the Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS), Eisenman attempts to reconstruct a “pre-Pauline” Christianity rooted in the same milieu that produced the scrolls. He suggests that James, not Peter or Paul, was the true heir of Jesus and the leader of the original Christian movement. PenguinRandomhouse.com+2Kirkus Reviews+2

The book spans well over 1,000 pages — a dense, encyclopedic work rife with textual comparisons, reinterpretations, and historical reconstructions. Whether one finds its conclusions compelling or deeply flawed, Eisenman invites readers to reexamine assumptions about who shaped early Christianity, how the New Testament canon came to be, and how later political and cultural pressures may have altered the face of the movement from its origins. Drew University+2Wikipedia+2


Core Thesis: James, Not Paul — The True Founder

At the heart of Eisenman’s argument is the claim that Christianity did not begin primarily as a Gentile mission under Paul, but as a Jewish, Torah-observant, messianic sect led by James. Key elements of his thesis include:

  • James as the natural successor. Because James was Jesus’s brother, and because he was known for his piety, adherence to Jewish law, and leadership in Jerusalem, Eisenman argues he was the rightful leader after Jesus, not Peter or Paul. Biblio+2Drew University+2

  • Christianity’s roots among Jewish apocalyptic sects. Eisenman situates early Christianity not as a novel religious break, but as emerging from the same socioreligious milieu that produced the Qumran community and the DSS — zealot, messianic, nationalistic, and opposed to Gentile influence. Kirkus Reviews+2robertheisenman.com+2

  • Paul as a divergent force. In this reconstruction, Paul is no hero. Instead, he is portrayed as deeply compromised by his Roman contacts, a promoter of a universalistic, Hellenized version of Christianity that diverged radically from the original Jewish-Christian core led by James. Biblio+2Drew University+2

  • Suppression and rewriting of history. According to Eisenman, as the Paul-centered tradition consolidated power, church leaders systematically marginalized Jewish-Christian elements. Over time, James and his legacy were written out — replaced with new emphases that aligned better with Gentile converts, Roman sensibilities, and the emerging institutional Church. Biblio+2centuryone.com+2

In Eisenman’s view, recovering James — the “real” James — becomes the key to unlocking the “true” origins of Christianity. Only by acknowledging the Jewish, sectarian roots and the role of James can one begin to see through centuries of rewriting, redaction, and assimilation. robertheisenman.com+1


Sources and Method — How Eisenman Builds His Case

Eisenman does not rely solely on the canonical New Testament. Instead, his project draws from a wide, sometimes obscure, range of texts that many mainstream scholars treat with caution — or disregard altogether. Among his sources:

  • Various early Christian writings beyond the canonical New Testament: the Clementine Recognitions and Clementine Homilies, the Apostolic Constitutions, late church historians, and other non-canonical works. Drew University+1

  • Apocryphal and Gnostic literature: including documents like the so-called “James Apocalypses” from the Nag Hammadi library. Drew University+1

  • The texts of the Dead Sea Scrolls, along with Qumran literature, which Eisenman argues share linguistic, thematic, and ideological affinities with early Jewish-Christian texts — enough, he claims, to suggest a common origin or at least strong overlap. Christianbook+2robertmprice.mindvendor.com+2

  • Historical sources such as the works of the Jewish historian Flavius Josephus, which Eisenman treats with more weight than many New Testament scholars do, especially in relation to reconciling Acts and other texts with historical events. Drew University+1

Beyond simply gathering sources, Eisenman applies what he calls a “hermeneutic of suspicion”: a method that seeks to uncover deliberate “codings,” symbolic layers, redactions, and name-games (e.g., multiple individuals named James, Judas, Simon, etc.) He argues that what appear to be different characters in the New Testament are often the same person re-named or re-classified to serve later theological or institutional agendas. Drew University+2Wikipedia+2

The result is a deeply layered reconstruction that attempts to peel away centuries of theological building to reveal what Eisenman sees as the original movement — a Jewish, apocalyptic sect, led by James.


Major Claims & Controversial Assertions

Because Eisenman’s reinterpretation is radical, it carries with it some of the most controversial and challenging claims about early Christianity, its origins, and its textual transmission. Some of the most provocative assertions:

  • That some canonical figures — such as “the Apostle James” (i.e., James son of Zebedee) and even “Judas Iscariot” — might not have existed as such in the earliest traditions; rather, these names may have been overlaid later to displace or confuse the historical James (brother of Jesus) and his followers. Biblio+2Biblio+2

  • That the martyrdom of James (as attested in early Christian tradition and in Josephus) was a pivotal event, whose suppression from mainstream Christian narrative helped pave the way for the “Pauline” dominance. Biblio+2Drew University+2

  • That the “Jewish Christianity” of Jerusalem, under James, was the authentic form — and that the later Gentile-oriented Christianity was a departure, even a betrayal, of that original vision. The divergence between Torah-observant, Jewish-centered faith and universalist, Gentile-centered Christianity is, for Eisenman, the central division of early Christian history. Kirkus Reviews+2Christianbook+2

  • That the theological and ethnic tensions underlying this split (between Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians) helped set the stage for later anti-Semitism in Christian history, as Jewish roots were systematically obscured or erased. Biblio+2Biblio+2

In essence, Eisenman paints a picture in which early Christianity did not emerge as a novel and universal religion detached from Judaism, but as an offshoot — a Jewish messianic movement — that was later reworked, redacted, and reshaped under the influence of Gentile converts, Roman politics, and institutional pressures.


Scholarly Reception: Admiration, Critique, and Rejection

Because of its sweeping scope and radical reinterpretation, James the Brother of Jesus has generated strong — and often polarized — reactions from scholars and reviewers.

What supporters highlight

  • The sheer breadth and ambition of Eisenman’s project: as reviewer Robert M. Price notes, the book is “breathtaking” — a “prehistoric” reconstruction of Christianity that forces us to confront how much we do not know about the religion’s early decades. Drew University

  • The willingness to treat non-canonical writings and the Dead Sea Scrolls seriously as potential keys to understanding early Christian origins — an approach that, to many, seems overdue and capable of opening fresh lines of inquiry. Drew University+2PenguinRandomhouse.com+2

  • Raising provocative but important questions about identity, memory, redaction, and the processes by which early Christian history was written — especially how names, authorship, and authority may have been manipulated for theological or institutional ends. Kirkus Reviews+1

Even some critics concede that Eisenman’s creative theorizing forces readers to confront uncomfortable or overlooked possibilities about the transformation from Jewish sect to Gentile-dominated faith. As one commentator noted, many scholars simply ignored the DSS texts or dismissed them too quickly — Eisenman’s work is, for better or worse, a challenge to that complacency. Los Angeles Times+1

Why many scholars reject or criticize it

But while Eisenman’s ambition is undeniable, many experts consider his conclusions speculative, insufficiently grounded, or methodologically flawed. Some of the major criticisms:

  • The central identification — between James the Just and the “Teacher of Righteousness” (a key figure in the Qumran scrolls) — is widely rejected. Scholars such as John Painter, Philip R. Davies, and Géza Vermes have argued there is no solid evidence linking James to the Qumran figure. Wikipedia+2LiquiSearch+2

  • Many Qumran texts date to well before the time of Jesus and James (often to the second century BCE), which undermines the chronological plausibility of Eisenman’s identification of James with the Teacher of Righteousness. Wikipedia+2White Rose eTheses Online+2

  • Eisenman’s method often relies on highly speculative reinterpretations, symbolic reading, and associative logic — rather than on direct historical evidence. Critics argue this risks conflating legend, later church politics, and fragmentary textual traditions with historical fact. Tektonics+2Kirkus Reviews+2

  • The tendency to treat much later Christian writings (some from the 3rd–4th centuries or later) as reliable windows into the first-century church is seen as problematic. Many scholars assert that such texts are too removed in time, and too influenced by their own doctrinal and institutional agendas, to serve as direct evidence. centuryone.com+2Drew University+2

  • The overall scholarly consensus — by a large margin — rejects Eisenman’s more radical claims, such as the Qumran–James identification or the notion that the DSS reflect an early Christian sect. When viewed in light of mainstream archaeological, textual, and historical scholarship, the book’s central theses are often described as “eccentric,” “speculative,” or “largely discredited.” Wikipedia+2UFS Journals+2

One succinct summary of the broader scholarly response: Eisenman’s work is sometimes admired for its creativity and questing zeal, but its core theories about the Dead Sea Scrolls and early Christianity are, in the view of most experts, unconvincing. Wikipedia+2LiquiSearch+2


Why the Debate Matters — Implications for Understanding Christianity’s Origins

Even if one rejects Eisenman’s specific identifications or chronology, James the Brother of Jesus remains important — because it forces a re-examination of basic assumptions. Some of the larger implications and why this debate continues to resonate:

1. Christianity’s Jewish roots

Mainstream narratives often present Christianity as beginning with a dramatic break from Judaism — a “new religion.” Eisenman insists instead on continuity: early Christianity, in his reconstruction, is not a brand-new invention but a Jewish, apocalyptic movement closely connected to contemporaneous sects. This challenges the idea of a clean break, and invites more nuanced reflection on how Jewish identity, law, ritual, and sectarianism shaped early believers.

If one takes even a moderate version of Eisenman’s thesis, the story of Christianity becomes one of gradual transformation — not rupture — shaped by internal struggles over identity, law, and mission (Jewish vs. Gentile). That in itself can shift how we read the Gospels, Acts, and Paul.

2. Power, memory, and redaction

Eisenman’s emphasis on suppression — on how James and his “party” were overshadowed by Paul’s growing influence — highlights how religious traditions can be rewired by institutional power, political convenience, and cultural assimilation. That means early Christian history is not just theological or spiritual history; it's also about memory, narrative control, identity politics, and social conflict.

This raises questions about how reliable our canonical sources really are, and whether the “official” story reflects the dominant but not necessarily original strand of early Christianity.

3. Re-evaluating the Dead Sea Scrolls

Eisenman’s work pushes readers to consider: what if the DSS — long seen as documents of a marginal Jewish sect — are more directly connected to the earliest Christian movement than previously thought? Even if one does not accept his full claims, the attempt opens up possibilities for rethinking the Scrolls’ significance.

Ultimately, the debate around Eisenman’s book reminds us of the fragmentary, contested, and often ambiguous nature of the evidence for early Christianity. It underscores the fact that much of what we “know” is shaped by later institutional decisions, redactions, and selective memory.


Conclusions: Provocative, Valuable — but Problematic

James the Brother of Jesus is, in many ways, a tour de force. Its ambition is immense and its scope sweeping. Robert Eisenman marshals a vast array of texts, styles of reading, and historical reconstructions to challenge orthodox understandings of Christian origins. For readers willing to wrestle with complexity, ambiguity, and controversy, the book offers a provocative — even thrilling — alternative.

Yet the very elements that make the book compelling also make it deeply problematic: the speculative identifications, the reliance on symbolic and associative readings, the use of late and contested sources, and the heavy dependence on controversial reinterpretations of the Dead Sea Scrolls. As mainstream scholarship overwhelmingly indicates, these aspects remain unconvincing. The reconstruction of a “Jamesian” Christianity rooted in Qumran remains, for most experts, an intriguing hypothesis — but not a robustly supported historical conclusion. Wikipedia+2Wikipedia+2

For those interested in the origins of Christianity, the history of the early church, or the Dead Sea Scrolls, Eisenman is not easily dismissed. His work acts as a challenge — a reminder that consensus is not the same as truth, and that long-neglected texts deserve a second look. But his book is better approached as a provocative thought experiment than as a definitive rewriting of early Christian history.

In the end, James the Brother of Jesus remains a powerful, controversial call to reconsider: Who really founded Christianity? And how much of what we “know” is the product of memory, politics, and later rewriting? Even if one disagrees with Eisenman’s specifics — and many do — such questions may be more important now than ever.

Tuesday, November 25, 2025

Bart D. Ehrman and James D. Tabor: 'Lies in the Name of God': Biblical Forgeries

The study of Christian origins has never been static. Each generation of scholars digs further into the complex formation of the texts that came to constitute the New Testament. Among the figures most responsible for pushing this conversation into the public sphere are Bart D. Ehrman and James D. Tabor—two historians of early Christianity who share a willingness to examine uncomfortable questions: Who really wrote the books of the New Testament? Were some texts written under false names? If so, what motivated those authors?

While they differ in their methods and conclusions, both scholars explore the presence of pseudonymous or forged writings in ancient Christianity. The provocative phrase “lies in the name of God”—most famously used by Ehrman—captures the unsettling idea that some early Christians may have composed texts claiming authority from figures who did not, in fact, write them. Tabor, for his part, frames the question in terms of competing movements within Judaism and early Christianity, where pseudonymous writings sometimes served ideological or theological battles.

Together, their work contributes to a deeper understanding of how early Christian literature took shape and why authorship mattered so profoundly in the ancient world.


1. Setting the Stage: What Counts as a Forgery?

Before examining the positions of Ehrman and Tabor, it helps to clarify the term forgery. In modern usage, “forgery” often evokes criminal intent: falsified checks, fake signatures, fraudulent documents. But in antiquity, pseudonymous writing took forms ranging from benign literary convention to deliberate deception.

Scholars generally identify several categories:

  • Pseudepigraphy – attributing a text to a figure who did not write it.

  • Interpolations – additions inserted into an originally authentic work.

  • Fabricated letters or gospels – texts composed to advance a theological position under an apostolic name.

  • Pious fraud – writings intended to promote what the author saw as religious truth by invoking a respected authority.

What modern scholars debate is intent. Was the author deliberately tricking readers? Was pseudonymous writing accepted literary practice? Or did the community knowingly preserve texts attributed to revered figures symbolically?

This is where the scholarship of Ehrman and Tabor becomes particularly important.


2. Bart D. Ehrman: Forgery as Intentional Deception

Bart D. Ehrman, a professor of religious studies at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, has popularized the discussion of pseudepigrapha through widely read books such as Forgery and Counterforgery and Forged: Writing in the Name of God. His central thesis is bold and uncompromising: many early Christian writings were intentional forgeries, composed by authors who falsely claimed to be apostles or apostolic figures.

Ehrman’s Key Arguments

  1. The Ancient World Condemned Forgery
    Ehrman challenges the idea that pseudonymous writing was widely accepted or benign. He argues that Greek, Roman, and Jewish writers openly criticized the practice. Philosophers such as Galen and physicians like Hippocrates complained about forged texts written in their names. The ancient reader, he insists, expected honesty about authorship.

  2. Several New Testament Books Are Likely Pseudonymous
    While the twenty-seven books of the New Testament have long-standing traditional attributions, modern scholarship questions some of them. Ehrman argues that certain epistles—such as 1 & 2 Timothy, Titus, 2 Peter, and possibly Ephesians and Colossians—show linguistic styles, theological positions, and historical contexts that differ from the apostolic authors to whom they are attributed.

  3. Pseudonymous Writing Was Used to Assert Authority
    Ehrman contends that early Christian communities were diverse, often in theological conflict. Writing “in the name of Paul” or “in the name of Peter” gave one faction’s views apostolic weight, and in doing so, sought to influence the community’s beliefs.

  4. The Term “Lies” Is Intentionally Provocative
    In titling his works with terms like Forged and “lies in the name of God,” Ehrman argues that these authors intended readers to believe something false—that an apostle wrote the text. He sees this not as benign literary convention but as deception, however well-intentioned.

Why Ehrman’s Work Resonates

Ehrman’s approach appeals to both scholars and general audiences because he combines rigorous textual analysis with accessible explanations. His work opens discussions about how the early church formed its canon and how power, theology, and authority shaped what became Scripture.

His conclusions are debated, but his influence is undeniable.


3. James D. Tabor: Pseudepigraphy in a Sectarian Landscape

James D. Tabor, professor emeritus at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte, approaches the topic differently. A specialist in Christian origins and ancient Judaism, Tabor focuses on the historical and sociological contexts in which early Christian and Jewish texts were produced.

Though he does not use the term “forgery” as broadly or provocatively as Ehrman, Tabor acknowledges that pseudonymous writings were common in the Second Temple Jewish and early Christian milieu. His emphasis is on why they were written and how they reflect competing movements within Judaism and the Jesus tradition.

Tabor’s Key Arguments

  1. Pseudonymous Writing Was Part of a Larger Jewish Tradition
    Tabor points to works like the Book of Enoch, Jubilees, and portions of the Dead Sea Scrolls, many of which were attributed to ancient patriarchs or prophets. These texts shaped the intellectual world of early Christians.

  2. Competing Sects Produced Competing Scriptures
    Tabor’s broader thesis is that early Christianity was diverse. Different groups—Pauline communities, Jamesian (Jewish-Christian) followers, apocalyptic sectarians—produced writings expressing their own visions of the Jesus movement. Pseudonymous writings often served internal debates about authority.

  3. The Term “Forgery” Requires Nuance
    Tabor cautions against projecting modern categories of deceit onto ancient literature. While some pseudonymous works attempted to assert apostolic authority, others may have used symbolic attribution as a form of homage or theological commentary.

  4. Understanding Intent Is Essential
    Unlike Ehrman, who emphasizes intentional deception, Tabor stresses that motivations varied. In some cases, the audience may have recognized the symbolic nature of the authorship. In others, texts may have been circulated under authoritative names by later communities, not the original authors.

Where Tabor Adds Depth

Tabor’s scholarship helps contextualize pseudonymous writings within the broader religious landscape. He frames early Christianity not as a unified movement but as a spectrum of groups producing texts that reflect their evolving beliefs. This approach makes questions of authorship less about individual deceit and more about communal identity and competition.


4. Points of Convergence Between Ehrman and Tabor

Despite differences in emphasis, both scholars agree on several key points:

  • Many early Christian texts were written under names not belonging to their actual authors.

  • These writings sometimes served theological agendas.

  • The early church debated which writings were authentic—and struggled with pseudonymous works.

  • Understanding authorship helps illuminate early Christian diversity and historical context.

Both scholars also encourage readers to see the formation of the New Testament not as a straightforward process but as a centuries-long negotiation over authority, identity, and doctrine.


5. Points of Divergence: Forgery or Literary Convention?

Where Ehrman and Tabor part ways is primarily in tone and interpretation.

Ehrman’s Perspective

  • Pseudonymous writing is best understood as intentional deception.

  • The authors meant readers to believe the works were written by apostles.

  • Ancient critics condemned the practice, making it ethically fraught even in its own time.

  • The term “forgery” is historically justifiable.

Tabor’s Perspective

  • Intent is complex and context-dependent.

  • Some pseudonymous texts reflect accepted literary or sectarian norms.

  • Using “forgery” for all such texts risks oversimplifying diverse ancient practices.

  • The focus should be on the social dynamics behind the writings, not moral judgment.

These differences create fertile ground for debate and reflect broader tensions in biblical scholarship: between historical criticism and literary theory, between moral judgment and contextual analysis.


6. Why the Question Matters: Authority, Truth, and the Early Church

The study of biblical forgeries—or pseudonymous writings—matters because it touches on fundamental questions:

1. What is Scripture?

If certain canonical texts were not written by apostles, how does that affect their authority? Scholars like Ehrman argue that it challenges traditional views; others argue that authority rests not in authorship but in communal reception.

2. How did doctrine develop?

Texts written to support particular theological positions influenced debates over resurrection, Christology, church leadership, and ethical practices.

3. How should modern readers interpret biblical texts?

Understanding that early Christians sometimes used pseudonymous writing can contextualize difficult passages, especially those tied to church structure or social norms.

4. What does this reveal about early Christian communities?

It highlights a world of competing movements, lively debates, theological creativity, and evolving identities.


7. Conclusion: Continuing the Conversation

Bart D. Ehrman and James D. Tabor have brought scholarly debates about pseudonymous biblical writings into public consciousness. Ehrman’s forthright claim that some early Christians told “lies in the name of God” forces readers to confront uncomfortable possibilities about intentional deception. Tabor’s contextual approach complicates the picture, suggesting that these writings often emerged from dynamic religious communities navigating identity and authority.

Together, they invite a more nuanced understanding of early Christian literature—one that acknowledges both the human complexity of its production and the historical richness of its development.

Their work reminds modern readers that the Bible did not emerge fully formed. It grew from communities wrestling with questions of faith, authority, and truth. And whether we label certain texts as forgeries, pseudepigrapha, or literary expressions of theological vision, the discussion reveals something profound: early Christians were passionately invested in articulating what they believed to be the truth—sometimes boldly, sometimes creatively, and sometimes under names not their own.

Wednesday, November 19, 2025

Bart D. Ehrman and James D. Tabor: How the Bible was changed

The Bible stands as one of the most influential literary, religious, and cultural bodies of work in human history. Yet for modern readers, the question of how this collection of writings reached its present form is often obscured by centuries of tradition, translation, and theological interpretation. Two prominent scholars—Bart D. Ehrman and James D. Tabor—have played major roles in bringing these historical processes to public awareness. While they differ in their methods and emphases, both argue that the Bible as we know it did not drop from heaven fully formed. Instead, it evolved through a complex interplay of editing, translation, theological dispute, and historical circumstance. Their research opens a window into how both the Old and New Testaments were shaped, re-shaped, and preserved over time.

Bart D. Ehrman: The Textual Critic’s Perspective

Bart D. Ehrman, a professor of New Testament studies, approaches the question of biblical change from the angle of textual criticism—the scholarly discipline that compares surviving manuscripts to reconstruct earlier forms of texts. For Ehrman, the most striking fact about the New Testament is that we possess no original manuscripts. Instead, we have thousands of handwritten copies produced over centuries, many of which contain significant variations.

In his landmark works such as Misquoting Jesus and The Orthodox Corruption of Scripture, Ehrman demonstrates that scribes—both intentionally and unintentionally—altered the texts they copied. Some changes were simple mistakes: misspellings, skipped lines, accidental repetitions. Other changes, however, reflected theological concerns. Early Christian communities were not monolithic; they held competing beliefs about the nature of Christ, the role of Jewish law, or the meaning of salvation. Scribes, influenced by their own beliefs or by doctrinal pressures, sometimes modified passages to support what later became “orthodox” Christianity.

For example, Ehrman highlights differences in how manuscripts describe Jesus’ divinity. Some scribes strengthened statements about Jesus’ divine status, likely in response to early Christian groups—such as adoptionists—who believed Jesus was human and later exalted by God. Other changes appear to harmonize contradictory accounts across different Gospels, smoothing rough edges in the narratives to create a more uniform theological picture.

Ehrman also emphasizes the role of translation. Every translation is an act of interpretation, and choices made by translators inevitably shape how modern readers understand ancient ideas. The shift from Hebrew and Greek into Latin, and later into vernacular languages, introduced new layers of meaning—sometimes clarifying the text, sometimes obscuring it.

For Ehrman, the Bible’s evolution is not a threat to faith but an invitation to engage honestly with history. By understanding how the texts were copied and preserved, readers gain deeper insight into the communities that treasured them.

James D. Tabor: The Historian’s and Archaeologist’s Perspective

James D. Tabor, a historian of ancient Judaism and early Christianity, approaches biblical change from a historical and archaeological angle. While Ehrman focuses largely on manuscripts, Tabor examines the broader historical processes that shaped both the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament. His work, including The Jesus Dynasty and Paul and Jesus, argues that the earliest followers of Jesus held beliefs quite different from the Christian doctrines later established by the Church.

Where Ehrman emphasizes textual changes, Tabor emphasizes ideological and historical ones. His central claim is that the earliest Jesus movement was a Jewish, apocalyptic, and Torah-observant community led initially by Jesus and then by his brother James. According to Tabor, this movement was gradually overshadowed by the theology of Paul, whose interpretation of Jesus as a divine, cosmic savior went beyond what Jesus or his earliest followers taught. The conflict between the Jerusalem-based movement and Paul’s Gentile mission forms a crucial part of the story of how Christian scripture developed.

From Tabor’s perspective, the Bible was “changed” not only through copying but through the triumph of certain theological voices. Canon formation—the process by which certain books were included in the Bible and others excluded—reflects this struggle. Writings revered by early Jewish followers of Jesus, such as the Gospel of the Hebrews or the Odes of Solomon, did not survive in the canon, while texts aligned with emerging orthodox theology became dominant.

Tabor also draws heavily on archaeology and the Dead Sea Scrolls to illuminate the Jewish world in which the Bible arose. The Scrolls reveal a diverse landscape of beliefs within Second Temple Judaism—apocalyptic expectations, messianic hopes, and different interpretations of law and purity. These ideas shaped early Christian writings, yet later theological developments often obscured or reinterpreted this Jewish foundation. Tabor argues that recovering this context is essential to understanding how early ideas about Jesus, resurrection, and divine intervention evolved.

Points of Convergence

Despite their differing approaches, Ehrman and Tabor share several key conclusions:

  1. The Bible is the product of history, not a static document.
    Both scholars emphasize that the Bible was shaped through centuries of human effort and conflict.

  2. Early Christianity was diverse.
    Competing movements—Jewish-Christian, Pauline, Gnostic, apocalyptic—interpreted Jesus in different ways, and texts reflect these disagreements.

  3. Later orthodoxy reshaped the past.
    As the Church consolidated power, it preserved certain writings, suppressed others, and sometimes altered existing texts to align with emerging doctrine.

  4. Understanding the Bible requires returning to its historical context.
    For Ehrman, this means studying manuscripts; for Tabor, it means reconstructing the world of ancient Judaism.

Points of Difference

While Ehrman and Tabor intersect at many points, they differ in emphasis:

  • Ehrman focuses on textual transmission, showing how scribes altered New Testament manuscripts and how translations further shaped meaning.

  • Tabor focuses on historical development, arguing that early Jewish forms of Christianity were reshaped—sometimes dramatically—by later theological movements, particularly Pauline Christianity.

Why Their Work Matters

Together, Ehrman and Tabor have helped popularize the academic study of Christian origins. Their work underscores that wrestling with the Bible’s history does not diminish its significance. Instead, it deepens appreciation for the complex human story behind its formation. The Bible became what it is through centuries of debate, devotion, and reinterpretation—a testament to the enduring power of its ideas and the communities that preserved them.

By illuminating how the Bible was changed, Ehrman and Tabor invite readers—not to discard the text—but to understand it more fully, historically, and honestly.

Thursday, November 13, 2025

Bart D. Ehrman: Did Jesus Claim to be God?

Few questions in the study of early Christianity generate as much debate as whether Jesus of Nazareth claimed to be divine. For millions of Christians, Jesus is God incarnate, a belief grounded in centuries of doctrine and the writings of the New Testament. Yet, according to biblical scholar Bart D. Ehrman, the historical Jesus—the Jewish teacher who walked the hills of Galilee—did not claim to be God in the way later Christian theology understood him. Ehrman, a prominent New Testament critic and historian, has explored this topic extensively in his books, lectures, and debates. His position is nuanced, rooted in historical-critical scholarship, and often misunderstood. To understand his argument, we must explore what he says about Jesus, how early Christians viewed him, and how the idea of Jesus’s divinity developed over time.

Ehrman’s Historical Approach

Ehrman approaches early Christianity using historical-critical methods rather than theological assumptions. This distinction is essential: he studies Jesus as historians study any figure of antiquity, relying on the earliest surviving sources, assessing their reliability, and interpreting them within their historical context. For Ehrman, the key question is not “Is Jesus God?” but rather “What did Jesus think and say about himself during his lifetime?”

To answer this, Ehrman argues that the earliest layers of the Gospel tradition portray Jesus not as a self-proclaimed deity but as a Jewish apocalyptic prophet. This view situates Jesus within a recognizable first-century Jewish movement that anticipated God’s imminent intervention in human history.

Jesus in the Synoptic Gospels: Prophet, Not Deity

Ehrman draws a sharp contrast between the Synoptic Gospels—Matthew, Mark, and Luke—and the Gospel of John. The Synoptics, written earlier, present Jesus as:

  • a miracle worker

  • a teacher and healer

  • a messenger of God’s coming kingdom

  • a figure empowered by God but distinct from God Himself

In these texts, Jesus speaks of God as someone other than himself. He prays to God, submits to God’s will, and teaches obedience to the Father. While the Synoptics attribute divine authority to Jesus—such as the authority to forgive sins or reinterpret the Law—they do not depict him making explicit claims to be God in a metaphysical sense.

Ehrman points to passages such as Mark 10:18 (“Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone”) as evidence that Jesus distinguishes himself from God. The title “Son of God,” Ehrman argues, was a common designation in Jewish and Greco-Roman contexts and did not necessarily imply divinity. Kings, prophets, and even the nation of Israel were called God's “sons.” In this earlier context, Jesus being called “Son of God” means he was God’s chosen agent, not God Himself.

The Gospel of John: A Later Development

The situation changes dramatically in the Gospel of John, where Jesus speaks in ways that sound unmistakably divine. He declares, “I and the Father are one” and uses the “I am” statements—phrases later readers understood as echoing God’s self-identification in Exodus.

Ehrman argues that these statements reflect a later theological development, not the words of the historical Jesus. John, written decades after Jesus’s death, presents a more theologically evolved portrait. Its authors were interpreting Jesus for their community’s needs, emphasizing his divine status more clearly than earlier Gospels do. Ehrman notes that Jesus’s dramatic self-revelations in John—public declarations of divinity, long theological discourses—have no parallels in the Synoptics.

Thus, for Ehrman, John's presentation does not depict what the historical Jesus said about himself, but what later Christians came to believe about him.

Early Christian Beliefs: Diversity, Not Uniformity

A major theme in Ehrman’s scholarship is that early Christianity was not monolithic. Different communities had different views about Jesus’s nature. Some saw him as exalted after his resurrection. Others believed he was a preexistent divine being who came to earth. Still others understood him as a uniquely empowered human.

Ehrman emphasizes that belief in Jesus’s divinity developed in stages:

  1. Exaltation Christology – Some of the earliest Christians believed God raised Jesus to a divine status after his resurrection.

  2. Incarnation Christology – Later Christians came to believe that Jesus existed as a divine being before he was born.

  3. Trinitarian Theology – Centuries later, formal doctrines defined Jesus as fully God and fully man, coequal with the Father.

These layers show a progression, not an original claim by Jesus.

Did Jesus Think He Was the Messiah?

While Ehrman argues that Jesus did not claim to be God, he does believe Jesus likely saw himself as the Messiah—the future king anointed by God to usher in the kingdom. But being the Messiah did not mean being divine. In ancient Judaism, the Messiah was a human chosen by God, not a deity.

Jesus’s teachings about the kingdom, his symbolic actions in Jerusalem, and his execution as a threat to Roman authority support the idea that he believed he played a central role in God’s plan. But this is not equivalent to a claim of divinity.

The Resurrection and Its Impact on Beliefs

For Ehrman, the resurrection experiences of Jesus’s followers were pivotal. After Jesus’s death, his disciples had powerful visionary experiences—experiences they interpreted as Jesus being alive again. Ehrman does not judge whether these experiences were supernatural or psychological; instead, he examines their historical impact.

These visions convinced Jesus’s followers that God had vindicated him, and from this conviction grew increasingly exalted views of who Jesus was. If God raised Jesus, they reasoned, Jesus must have had a special relationship to God—a relationship eventually interpreted in divine terms.

Why Ehrman’s View Matters

Ehrman’s conclusions challenge traditional Christian theology, but they also illuminate the complexity of early Christian history. He emphasizes that beliefs about Jesus did not drop fully formed into the first century. They developed across decades and centuries as communities reflected on Jesus’s life, death, and perceived resurrection. Understanding this development does not diminish Christianity’s significance; rather, it highlights how dynamic and adaptive early faith communities were.

The Debate Continues

Ehrman’s critics—many of them Christian theologians or conservative biblical scholars—argue that Jesus did claim divinity in subtle or implicit ways and that Ehrman underestimates the unity of early Christian thought. Others appreciate his role in presenting a historically grounded, academically rigorous view of Jesus.

Ultimately, the question of whether Jesus claimed to be God remains one of interpretation—shaped by one’s assumptions, methods, and faith commitments.

Conclusion

Bart D. Ehrman’s answer to the question “Did Jesus claim to be God?” is clear: the historical Jesus did not claim divinity. Instead, Jesus was an apocalyptic Jewish prophet who believed he was ushering in God’s kingdom. The belief in his divine status arose after his death, shaped by the experiences and interpretations of his followers and expanded through decades of theological reflection.

Whether one accepts Ehrman’s conclusions or not, his work invites readers to grapple seriously with the historical foundations of Christian belief and to appreciate the rich diversity of early Christian thought.

Wednesday, November 5, 2025

The Historical Jesus with Dr. Dale Martin

Introduction

The figure of Jesus of Nazareth lies at the heart of Western religious, cultural and historical discourse. But what can historians reasonably say about the historical Jesus—the man who lived in first-century Judea—apart from the theological and devotional layers that later communities added? In his lecture “The Historical Jesus” (part of his Introduction to New Testament History and Literature course) and his writings, Dale B. Martin, Woolsey Professor of Religious Studies at Yale University, offers a clear, rigorous framework for tackling this question. MuutaNet Comics+4Open Yale Courses+4Open Yale Courses+4

In what follows, we’ll explore Martin’s approach: his methodology for historical Jesus research, key observations about Jesus’ life and context, challenges the historian faces, and how Martin situates the man behind the faith.


Methodology: How Martin Approaches the Historical Jesus

A central insight in Martin's work is that the Gospels (and other New Testament texts) are not straightforward “life-histories” of Jesus in the modern biographical sense, but texts produced by early communities with theological purposes. Therefore:

  • Martin begins by noting that many of the accounts about Jesus are contradictory in detail. He insists that historians must acknowledge this rather than ignore it. Open Yale Courses+1

  • He introduces the concept of working with criteria for historical plausibility: for instance, a statement or event is more likely to be historical if it appears in more than one independent source (“multiple attestation”) or if it is dissimilar to the distinct theological agenda of the text that reports it (“criterion of dissimilarity”). Open Yale Courses+1

  • Martin emphasizes that reading the New Testament as history means taking seriously the historical context: Greek and Roman imperial realities, Jewish sectarianism, apocalyptic hopes, and the conventions of biography and remembered oral traditions. Open Yale Courses+1

  • Finally, he distinguishes between Jesus of history (what can be reasonably reconstructed) and Christ of faith (the theological identity bestowed afterwards). He doesn’t collapse them but invites reflection on how they differ. Apple Podcasts+1

Thus, Martin’s methodology arms us with historical tools while still acknowledging that much remains uncertain.


The Context: Who Jesus Was and His Environment

Martin places Jesus firmly in the social, political, and religious world of early first-century Palestine (Judea/Galilee). Several key features of his context that Martin emphasises:

  • Jesus was a Jewish man operating in a world where the Temple in Jerusalem, Roman rule, and various Jewish groups (Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes, etc.) defined religious life. His actions and teachings cannot be abstracted from that environment. Department of Religion+1

  • He appears as an itinerant preacher/teacher in Galilee and Judea, rather than a member of an elite priestly class. His ministry, according to Martin, likely included interactions with the marginalised, use of parables, and prophetic overtones. His social location matters.

  • Importantly, Martin emphasises that Jesus’ death by execution (crucifixion under Roman jurisdiction) is a historically secure anchor. The fact of his execution is widely agreed upon by scholars and is a starting point for reconstructing his life. Open Yale Courses+1

With that backdrop, the task becomes: what can we say with some confidence about what Jesus said, did, or believed?


What Martin Suggests We Can Tentatively Say

While Martin emphasises the limits of our historical knowledge, he also outlines several points about Jesus that emerge reasonably from the scholarship:

  • The statement “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews” (or versions of it) on the cross inscription appears in multiple Gospels and is likely historical, since it meets the criteria of multiple attestation and is awkward for Christian theology (thus more plausibly historical). Open Yale Courses+1

  • Jesus’ identity as a teacher-prophet: The evidence suggests that Jesus proclaimed something like a coming divine intervention, that the Kingdom of God (or God’s rule) was at hand. He was rooted in Jewish prophetic and apocalyptic traditions. Martin treats this as a plausible summary, though not without debate.

  • Jesus’ execution under Roman jurisdiction: Given that crucifixion was a Roman execution method for perceived political troublemakers or rebels, Martin argues that Jesus’ message had some dimension that attracted Roman attention—or more precisely, that his movement was considered sufficiently disruptive. Department of Religion+1

But—and this is important—Martin also emphasises what we cannot know or what remains highly speculative.


What We Cannot Know or Should View with Caution

Martin is clear that many tradi­tions cannot be reconstructed historically with certainty. Some of the limitations:

  • The infancy narratives (birth stories in Matthew and Luke) differ so markedly that trying to harmonise them or use them historically is fraught. Martin warns against reading them as straightforward history. Open Yale Courses+1

  • Many sayings and actions in the Gospels may reflect the theological interests of later Christian communities rather than events in Jesus’ life as he himself lived it. For instance, claims about Jesus’ divinity or an extended ministry with miracles are heavily layered by the faith of his followers.

  • Martin emphasises that the historian cannot verify supernatural events using standard historical methods. Thus, miracle accounts belong to the realm of faith rather than historical reconstruction. He distinguishes between what historians can claim versus what theologians believe.

  • The so-called “quest for the historical Jesus” has shifted through generations of scholarship; Martin warns that our reconstructions are always provisional, subject to new evidence or new methods.


Significance: What It Means for Faith, Scholarship, and Culture

One of the distinctive virtues of Martin’s approach is that he addresses not only the historical but the cultural and theological implications of reconstructing Jesus. Some take-away points:

  • For scholars and students, Martin’s framework offers a model for honest engagement: acknowledge your presuppositions, distinguish faith claims from historical claims, and treat ancient texts like any other historical artifact (while respecting their religious significance).

  • For faith communities, the distinction between Jesus of history and Christ of faith may challenge certain assumptions but also open up richer conversations: how does the man Jesus, as reconstructed by historians, relate to the way Jesus is worshipped or followed?

  • Culturally, Martin’s work reminds us that the figure of Jesus is not a universal blank slate; he emerged in a specific time and place, interacting with particular people, ideas, and power structures. Understanding that context helps avoid anachronistic projections.


Conclusion

Dale B. Martin’s study of the historical Jesus invites us into a disciplined, nuanced conversation—one that refuses both naïve literalism and reductive skepticism. By applying historical criteria, acknowledging contradictions, and situating Jesus in his first-century environment, Martin provides a clear path for reconstructing what we can reasonably say about this important figure. At the same time, he respects the limits of historical research and leaves room for the mystery and faith-dimension that surround Jesus.

In the end, what emerges is not a full biography of Jesus in modern terms, but a portrait grounded in the ancient world and enriched by scholarly method—a Jesus who was Jewish, prophetic, executed under Rome, and whose memory sparked a movement that transformed the world. Whether one approaches him as historian, theologian, or believer, Martin’s work shows that the story of Jesus remains alive in both its ancient root-context and its ongoing cultural significance.